


Goodbye, Volleyball (College AU)

by ArinFive



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sad Oikawa Tooru, Seijou, aoba johsai, injured!oikawa, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArinFive/pseuds/ArinFive
Summary: The morning of the Spring Tournament Semi-Finals, Oikawa thought he had everything. He was the captain of a volleyball team that was supposed to easily make it to the final round. Seijou was in top shape and Oikawa honestly thought that they had a chance of making it to Nationals. In a few months, he’d be graduating from high school to pursue a professional volleyball career.So how could one injury, just one wrong fall, suddenly rip all of that away?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru & Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 55
Kudos: 79





	1. Just One Fall

Only a few hours ago, Oikawa had it all.  


He had woken up on the morning of the semi-final match feeling as if he had gotten the best sleep he had in weeks. In the weeks leading up to the Spring Tournament, he had been having trouble sleeping for more than a few hours at a time. He had lost count of the number of times he had woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat from another dream about something that could go wrong in a match.  


Most of those dreams had been about advancing to the finals and then just _barely_ losing to Shiratorizawa. These dreams were always the same. Seijou would be playing against Shiratorizawa, who was a point away from winning the entire match. The ball would fall to him, and he would toss it to his team’s ace and his best friend, Iwaizumi. The toss would feel perfect to him, the ball leaving his fingers just the way he wanted, but it would suddenly drop onto the court as he dove desperately to reach it in time. He would watch helplessly as the ball fell to the ground, just out of reach, before his eyes flew open and he laid in his bed panting, realizing that it had all been a dream.  


Occasionally, Oikawa would have a nightmare about facing a different team at the tournament: Karasuno High School. These dreams were also always the same. Karasuno would take the first point of the match, and though his team always managed to score a point after them, they were never able to catch up. No matter who he tossed to or what tactics he tried, Karasuno’s setter, Kageyama, was always just a step ahead of him. If Oikawa tossed to Iwaizumi to score a point, Kageyama would pull off a quick attack with Hinata or manage to get a point on his own with a dump. Oikawa would watch Kageyama score point after point, gritting his teeth as Karasuno pulled ahead. When Karasuno arrived at match point, just one successful spike away from victory, it was his turn to serve. He would throw the ball high into the air, slamming it as hard as he could onto the other side of the court. Everything fell silent before the whistle sounded and the referee showed that the ball had fallen out of bounds.  


If he had to choose, Oikawa would say that the dreams of losing against Karasuno weighed on him more. Though he absolutely hated the thought of losing to Shiratorizawa again, it was a bitter reality that he’d experienced over and over during his time in high school. On the other hand, he had yet to lose to Kageyama in an official match. He’d always known that one day, with his natural-born genius for volleyball, Kageyama would overtake him as a better player, but that was a day that he was planning to postpone as long as possible. As long as he didn’t lose to Kageyama, Oikawa could prove to himself that his years of hard work were enough to make up for the talent that he hadn’t been born with.  


With these dreams having plagued him for the past few weeks, Oikawa had taken his dreamless night to be a sign that today would be a good day. His adrenaline had been pumping ever since he woke up with the knowledge that they would be playing Karasuno in the semi-final match. He had quelled his nerves by telling himself that they were going to win, no matter what. There was no reason why they should lose to Karasuno, a school that had been called a “fallen powerhouse” until a few months ago. It was his last tournament before he graduated, and he was determined to make this the year that his team would defeat Shiratorizawa and go to Nationals.  


So when had everything gone wrong? Oikawa had noticed immediately that Karasuno had gotten much better since the last time Seijou had defeated them. Though it was by a small margin, Karasuno managed to take the first set before Seijou took back the second one. It was in the final set that Oikawa felt a level of pressure that he’d never felt before, not even when facing Shiratorizawa. It was his last chance to lead his team to victory and to Nationals, but neither of those things could happen if Karasuno defeated them here. There would be no second chances for him or his fellow third-years if they lost.  


The last set had both teams neck-and-neck, and Oikawa’s desperation to win had built up to a level that surprised even him. Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t panic. Unlike most third-years, it wasn’t like losing meant the end of his volleyball career. He’d received offers from a few professional teams abroad to play after he graduated. Compared to his lofty dreams of climbing the professional ranks, winning a semi-final prefectural tournament match shouldn’t have felt like such a high-stakes situation. Yet, to Oikawa, this match felt like the most important match he would ever play. Even if he had a professional career ahead of him, this tournament was the last chance that he would get to play alongside his Seijou teammates. Iwaizumi and the other third years, Hanamaki and Matsukawa, were all planning to go to college and they would be parting ways after three years of playing alongside each other. Once this tournament was over, the chances of them ever standing on the court together were slim at best.  


Perhaps it was this thought that had led him to panic. They had reached a deuce with Karasuno, and given how close each of the sets had been, Oikawa knew that both teams were exhausted. He definitely felt it in his muscles, and especially his right knee that had begun to throb from overexertion. He had injured it a year ago and it still flared up from time to time. Looking at his team, he could tell that the others, especially the first-years, wouldn’t last much longer if the match kept drawing out.  


It had happened after Karasuno had managed to get another kill, taking them to match point. Oikawa had felt his entire body tense up, knowing that their last tournament could end before they got to face Shiratorizawa one last time. When he saw Kageyama toss to Hinata, who spiked the ball against the blockers' hands before it flew off to the side, it was as if the entire world faded away. He couldn’t hear the shouting in the stands, his teammates’ yells, or see anything except for the ball as he dove after it, his body slamming against the ground.  


_His knee._ That was the first thing he was aware of when he hit the floor. His right knee had slammed into the ground, sending a wave of extreme pain throughout his entire body before everything felt numb. His vision immediately blurred. It was in this hazy state that he realized that despite having dove after the ball, he hadn’t touched it. Slowly turning his head to look up, he saw the ball lying on the floor, just inches away from his outstretched hand.  


Slowly, the rest of his senses began to come back. He heard the whistle of the referee and the roar of the crowd. The hazy figures dressed in black on the other side of the court seemed to be jumping up and down, huddling together and shouting. The floor felt cold against his skin as he stared at the volleyball in front of him. Karasuno had scored. Kageyama had beaten him.  


His last high school tournament was over.  


Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, trying and failing to keep his tears from falling. He wasn’t sure what he was crying about: the end of his high school volleyball career, the knowledge that his dream of defeating Shiratorizawa and going to Nationals would never be fulfilled, or the searing pain from his knee. He had no idea how long he stayed there, with his hands clenched into fists and silent tears falling to the floor.  


“Get up, Trashykawa.”  


Oikawa didn’t need to look up to know who spoke. Iwaizumi’s voice was rough, each of his words sounding like he was forcing them out of his mouth.  


“Captain, it’s time for us to line up.” Oikawa heard two pairs of footsteps approach him that matched the timing of Hanamaki’s voice. He let out a slow breath, trying to stop his tears. It took all of his concentration to unclench his fists and slowly push himself off the ground.  


He felt a blinding jolt of pain when he stood up, the sensation shooting up his right leg, and felt his body falling helplessly back to the ground. He tried to brace his arms to at least keep his face from smashing into the floor when two sets of arms grabbed him, supporting him so he could stay upright.  


“Oikawa, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi was on his left, slinging his arm over his shoulders. Oikawa leaned into him, taking the weight off of his right foot while grimacing.  


“Can you walk?” Hanamaki asked him. Though he attempted to set his right foot down again, the pain immediately returned, causing him to shake his head. He heard Iwaizumi curse and felt his other arm being looped around Matsukawa’s shoulders.  


“Come on, we have to get you off the court,” Matsukawa said. Oikawa knew that he must’ve looked bad if none of the third-years were teasing him for not being able to walk on his own. He nodded, letting Iwaizumi and Matsukawa guide him towards the far end of the court.  


“Coach!” he heard Hanamaki yell. “Oikawa is injured and can’t walk! He needs someone to take a look at it!”  


He didn’t catch what his coach said in response as Iwaizumi and Matsukawa did their best to slowly lower him onto the bench. Someone sat down next to him and he turned his head to see his coach.  


“Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki, go line up with the others,” he said, and the three nodded before running back to the court. His coach turned back to him. “The nurse on duty should be on her way. Oikawa, how bad is it?”  


“It’s my right knee,” Okiawa said, each of his words coming out in short gasps. Was it so hard to breath because he had been crying, or was the pain in his leg that bad? “I can’t walk.”  


“We’ll let the nurse examine it,” his coach said. “And if it looks bad, I’m driving you to the hospital to have it looked at.”  


Oikawa was only barely aware of what was happening on the court. The two sides must’ve shaken hands and finished with the formalities, because his teammates were now crowding around him with concerned expressions etched onto all of their faces.  


“Oikawa-senpai, are you alright?”  


“Was it your knee?”  


“Are you able to walk?”  


“Hey, first and second-years, stop crowding around him!” Iwaizumi shouted. The underclassmen that had been gathered around him all flinched. “You still need to stretch and cool down! Get back onto the court and leave Trashykawa alone!”  


Although they looked reluctant to leave, the first and second-years quickly made their way to where Iwaizumi was, not wanting to face his wrath. Oikawa silently thanked his friend. It was taking all of his energy to just tolerate the pain in his leg, as well as the dull ache that was quickly spreading through his chest as the outcome of the match finally began to sink in.  


_The had lost._  


“Oikawa-san, I’m going to take a look at your knee.” A woman with a nurse’s I.D. pinned to her jacket crouched down in front of him. “I’m going to move your leg a little bit to see how it’s doing, so I need you to tell me when it hurts.”  


She had barely touched his right leg when he felt the pain shoot up his leg.  


“That hurts!” he said as she quickly let go. “It hurts a little even if I’m not moving.”  


She nodded. “Have you injured this knee before?”  


“About a year ago. It’s been flaring up occasionally since then.”  


The nurse turned to his coach. “This looks serious. You should get Oikawa-san to the hospital as soon as possible to have it looked at.”  


“I’ll be driving him immediately,” his coach agreed before turning towards the court. “Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Iwaizumi, come here! The rest of you, finish cooling down!”  


His fellow third-years immediately jogged over to where he was sitting. “I need you three to help me get Oikawa to my car,” his coach said. “I’m driving him to the hospital to have his knee looked at.”  


Iwaizumi and Matsukawa once again wrapped his arms around their shoulders as they slowly hoisted him up to a standing position. He hopped on his left leg as they made their way through the hallway and to the parking lot. Hanamaki walked in front of them, clearing a path for the three of them.  


Thankfully, the coach’s car was large enough to fit them all. Once they managed to get Oikawa into the car, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa slid in to sit next to him. Hanamaki took the seat in the front as their coach turned on the ignition. Every bump in the road made Oikawa wince as they headed to the hospital.  


Heavily leaning on Matsukawa and Iwaizumi again, Oikawa let them guide him out of the car once they had arrived and through the hospital doors. The air conditioning felt cold against his skin as their coach went forward to talk to someone at the front desk. By the time Oikawa had limped to the front, a nurse instructed him to follow her into a room so she could run some tests. Matsukawa and Iwaizumi took him inside, lowering him onto the chair, with Hanamaki trailing close behind. It was only once they all promised that they’d be wailing for him outside that they reluctantly left the room.  


The tests that followed only half-registered in his mind as the nurse bustled around the room, examining his leg as well as the rest of the bruises that he’d acquired over the course of the match. He didn’t know how much time had passed until she pulled up a chair to sit in front of him.  


“Oikawa-san, you said you’ve injured this knee before?” she said.  


He nodded. “What’s wrong with it?”  


“It’s fractured,” she said. “And the fact that the same knee has been injured before means that it’s in a very vulnerable state. We’ll put your knee in a brace and have you do certain exercises to strengthen it once it heals enough, but I’ll be upfront with you. You may never be able to walk without some level of pain again.”  


Oikawa blinked. _What?_ He’d been injured before, plenty of times. It was the reality of being a volleyball player. Sure, sometimes his injuries resulted in having to take time off to heal, but he had always been able to come back.  


“I can’t-” He felt a lump form in his throat as his mouth suddenly felt extremely dry. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and the room suddenly seemed to start spinning. “I’m graduating from high school soon. I’m supposed to play professional volleyball after that. I need to be able to walk to be able to be able to play!”  


The nurse looked at him sadly, and he felt a choked sob escape his throat. Even before she spoke, he could guess what she was going to say.  


“Oikawa-san, I’m sorry to say that you shouldn’t be playing volleyball anymore. Your knee injury means that if anything happens to it again, you may lose your ability to even walk at all.”  


“No.” He felt his breaths quicken, as if he was gasping for air. No matter how fast he seemed to be breathing, his head wouldn’t stop spinning. “I can’t give up volleyball. It’s all I have! I’m supposed to go pro! I’m supposed to-”  


“Oikawa-san. Take a deep breath.” The nurse’s hands were on his shoulders now, stabilizing him. His arms still trembling, he took in a shaky breath for four counts and then released it. Slowly, the room seemed to stop spinning around him though it did little to slow the pounding heartbeat in his ears.  


“I know this is a lot to take in all of a sudden,” the nurse said. “But I need you to understand that this is a very serious injury. Anything happening to your knee from now on means that you may not be able to walk at all.”  


When the nurse’s hands came off his shoulders, he realized that he had started shaking violently. He tried to hold back a sob as tears streamed down his cheeks. Within seconds he was heaving, shoulders slumping forward so that his head was in between his legs. He couldn’t breathe. How could this be happening? Just a few hours ago, he had it all. He was the captain of a team that was supposed to easily make it to the final round of the Spring Tournament. This time, he had honestly thought that they had a shot at defeating Shiratorizawa and going to Nationals. He was supposed to play volleyball professionally after graduation with a long and fulfilling career ahead of him.  


All it had taken was one injury for all of that to disappear. How could things have changed so quickly? His team had lost in the semi-final match that should’ve been an easy win. He, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa were going to graduate without having ever qualified for Nationals. He wouldn’t be playing volleyball professionally after graduating.  


_He wouldn’t be playing volleyball ever again._  



	2. Not Alone

“Hey, hasn’t Oikawa been in there for a while?” Hanamaki asked.  


Iwaizumi shrugged. He, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki had been sitting in the waiting area of the hospital for the past hour. Their coach had left to take care of the rest of the team, who had stayed behind at the arena. It hadn’t required a conversation for the three of them to agree that they were all staying behind to wait for Oikawa. While Iwaizumi knew that from an outsider’s perspective, the Seijou volleyball team could come off as detached from each other given their constant bickering, that was just their way of communicating how much they cared for each other. Especially within the four third-years, their constant teasing was a testament to how long they’d played alongside each other.  


“I don’t know, it looked pretty serious,” Matsukawa said. “Oikawa always plays off his injuries as being less serious than they actually are. It must’ve been bad if he was willing to admit that he couldn’t walk.”  


Hanamaki nodded. It was no secret amongst the three of them that Oikawa’s previous knee injury was still hurting him, despite Oikawa’s adamant refusal to acknowledge it. While the first and second-years hadn’t noticed how Oikawa would grimace after diving for the ball during practice before quickly replacing it with a smile, it was obvious to the three of them that he had been trying to keep his team from worrying about him.  


_You idiot,_ Iwaizumi thought, thinking of all the times that he had asked Oikawa about his injuries only to be brushed off. _We were going to worry about it whether you told us the truth or not._  


“I guess if this is how things turned out, maybe it’s a good thing that we didn’t make it to the final round,” Hanamaki said. “I mean, if he’s injured to the point that he can’t play tomorrow, it would’ve killed him to not be able to be on the court for the last match against Shiratorizawa.”  


Silence enveloped the three of them. It was strange how what they had thought was the worst thing that could happen to them that day, losing to Karasuno, had come into fruition, yet it was the last thing on their minds. Despite having spent years dreaming of the day that his team would finally beat Ushijima, Iwaizumi couldn’t care less about the fact that they wouldn’t be advancing to the final round. Maybe if Oikawa walked out of the examination room with a smile on his face and told them that he was fine, the loss would hit him, but all Iwaizumi cared about now was that his friend was okay.  


_Tap. Thud. Tap._  


Iwaizumi looked up to see Oikawa, holding himself up on crutches and his right knee in a brace, making his way towards them. His shoulders were slumped forward and he stared down at the ground in front of him, making his expression unreadable.  


“Oikawa. What did the doctor say?” Iwaizumi asked, standing up. Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed.  


He didn’t respond right away but Iwaizumi instantly knew that something was wrong. He saw Oikawa’s fingers tighten around his crutches as his shoulders trembled. When Oikawa finally looked up, his eyes were red and swollen. _How long had he cried in the examination room before coming out to see them?_ His hair was a mess and his jaw was clenched tightly. 

Oikawa closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to look at his teammates as he spoke. “I fractured my knee. They said that if I wear a brace and don’t exert myself for a month, I should be able to walk normally.”  


Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa exchanged glances. A month of no volleyball would be painful for Oikawa but also didn’t seem dire enough to warrant his distraught expression. The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to continue.  


Oikawa opened his eyes after a few moments had passed, a slight smile appearing on the corner of his lips. It was different from the one that he flashed in front of his fangirls or used to tease Kageyama, though. Iwaizumi could tell that this smile was bitter and Oikawa’s final attempt to shield how he was really feeling from the rest of the world.  


“They said I might never be able to walk again without pain,” he said. His forced smile contorted into a larger one. His voice cracked, leaving him to speak in only a barely-audible whisper.  


“They said I can’t play volleyball anymore.”  


His words took a moment to register. Iwaizumi waited for Oikawa’s face to return to its usual smirk and for him to start teasing them that they were all far too gullible. It had to be a prank. Oikawa had devoted most of his life to volleyball. Iwaizumi knew better than anyone after six years of playing on the same team how hard he had worked. He had been there on the few occasions that Oikawa let someone see him cry and had listened to him curse his lack of talent and express his determination to claw his way to the top. Unlike the rest of them, who would either go on to play volleyball in college before stopping or quit altogether after high school, Oikawa was supposed to play professionally. He had been so excited when he had told Iwaizumi that he had gotten a few offers to play abroad after graduation.  


_How could that all be taken away?_  


It was when Oikawa’s expression didn’t change that Iwaizumi realized that this was no joke. His best friend’s career had really been snatched away from him by an injury before it had ever started. He felt a dull ache bloom in his chest and spread throughout the rest of his body..  


What did you say to someone who, in one instant, had lost the ability to continue what they loved more than anything? What did you say to someone who had dedicated years of endless training and sacrifice to climb to the top of the volleyball world only to have that dream stripped from him before he even graduated from high school? Iwaizumi didn’t know. Their normal way of cheering each other up, a slap on the back that meant _”this isn’t the end, so pick yourself up and we’ll get through this together,”_ didn’t seem appropriate for this situation. For once, this really _was_ the end, so how could Iwaizumi tell him to pick himself up? How could Iwaizumi expect him to do that if he didn’t even know how to support his friend when he needed him the most?  


“Let’s get ramen,” he said. He saw Hanamaki and Matsukawa stare at him as if he had suggested cutting off one of his limbs. Oikawa had a similar expression on his face, looking at Iwaizumi if he didn’t recognize him.  


“We always get ramen when we lose,” Iwaizumi said. His hands clenched into fists at his side. Of course ramen wouldn’t solve the issue that Oikawa would never be able to step on the court and set for him again. He doubted that it would do anything to make any of them feel better. But what else was he supposed to do? “We lost against Karasuno today. It’s only right that we get ramen one last time.”  


Perhaps Matsukawa and Hanamaki felt the same overwhelming desire to want to say something but at the same time being utterly lost for words, because they nodded before falling into line next to Oikawa. The three of them followed Iwaizumi out the hospital doors, out onto the sidewalks to head to their favorite ramen shop. None of them spoke.  


Before every single match they played, Oikawa would gather the team and say to them, “I believe in all of you.” It had grown to become a sort of pre-game ritual after hearing it from him for three years, but Iwaizumi was sure that everyone on the team knew that Oikawa always meant it. One of the things he had always admired about his friend was his ability to believe in his teammates a hundred percent and then draw out the best of their abilities by figuring out what each of them needed. After all, Oikawa could’ve gone to Shiratorizawa to play volleyball in high school, where he would’ve been basically guaranteed a chance to compete at Nationals. Instead, he had chosen to attend Seijou, where most of his teammates from middle school were going, because he believed in their ability to rise to the challenge and beat any team.  


But if Oikawa was there to support all of them, who was there to support Oikawa? Iwaizumi thought back to all of the games they had played in high school. While Oikawa had never failed to tell them that he believed in each and one of them, they had never said it back. They had taken it as a given that their captain and setter would be there for them no matter what. So who was supposed to be there for Oikawa and believe in him, just like he had believed in all of them? Who was supposed to be there to make sure that Oikawa didn’t feel like he was shouldering the weight of supporting his entire team all alone?  


_He was,_ Iwaizumi thought. He clenched his hands. It was his job as the team’s ace, vice-captain, and above all, Oikawa’s friend, to have been there to support him so Oikawa wasn’t doing it all on his own. Why hadn’t he ever told him that he believed in him back? Why had it taken a career-ending injury for him to see that Oikawa couldn’t sustain that cheerful, carefree facade forever?  


“Welcome!”  


Iwaizumi hardly registered the shop owner’s enthusiastic greeting and quickly had them seated at a booth for four. He slid into the seat next to Oikawa and ordered their usuals without having to glance at the menu. When their food was set out in front of them, Oikawa picked up his chopsticks and began to eat wordlessly, though a choked sob escaped him as he chewed his noodles.  


As soon as he downed a glass of water, tears were streaming down Oikawa’s face again. Iwaizumi watched his friend eat ravenously, chopsticks gripped tightly under white knuckles, and tears flowing non-stop down his face.  


This wasn’t supposed to be how it ended. Even if they didn’t win against Shiratorizawa and make it to Nationals and still ended up commemorating their loss at this ramen shop, it wasn’t supposed to be done in bitter silence. Oikawa always expressed his frustrations when he ate, he and Iwaizumi yelling at each other about who was more at blame for them losing. Both of them always blamed themselves the most. Seeing Oikawa eat after having experienced the most disappointing loss wordlessly just felt _wrong_. In all his years of knowing him, Iwaizumi had never seen his friend look so completely defeated.  


“Hey, Trashykawa.” Oikawa turned to him, quickly wiping the tears out of his eyes. Iwaizumi set his chopsticks down.  


“You’ve been my teammate on the court for the last six years. You’re an incredible setter, especially since you’ve gotten to where you are through sheer hard work and grit.” Iwaizumi took a deep breath before turning to look at his friend. “You’re my partner that I can be proud of, but that has nothing to do with your abilities as a volleyball player. You’re my friend, and that’s not going to change even if you can never touch a volleyball again.”  


“He’s right,” Hanamaki said, the smallest of grins on his face. “We wouldn’t have put up with you for so long if the only thing you had going for you was your volleyball playing.”  


Matsukawa nodded. “If we were only friends with you because of volleyball, we would’ve made you quit calling us those stupid nicknames years ago.”  


Oikawa stared at all three of them for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. Though it was slight, Iwaizumi knew that this smile was a genuine one. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa said slowly. “I guess you’re right.”  


“We all believe in you, just like you believed in us on the court, no matter what it is you’re doing,” Iwaizumi said. “Even if you can’t play volleyball anymore, we’re going to be there for you.”  


Hanamaki nodded. “If you decide to take college entrance exams this year, you have three friends in your year in the college-prep class who are all more than willing to help you cram.”  


“And if you decide not to do that, then we’ll all understand,” Matsukawa said. “Whatever it is that you need, we’re here for you. You’ve done more for all of us by believing in us than I think you realize. It’s about time that we return the favor.”  


“You guys…” Oikawa sniffled, furiously wiping away the tears that had started to fall again.  


“Hey, why are you crying? We were trying to cheer you up, you know!” Hanamaki exclaimed.  


“I know. It’s just....” Oikawa didn’t need to finish his sentence for them to all know what he was thinking. Thanking each other wasn’t necessary, anyways. It was how they functioned both on and off the court, with an implicit understanding that they didn’t need to say thank you because helping each other was just what friends did.  


“You’re not alone, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said. “This isn’t the end, so pick yourself back up, and we’ll get through this together.”  



	3. The End of a Journey

Oikawa wished that his coach would just say something. Even if he yelled at him for injuring himself, anything would be better than the silence that seemed to stretch out for an eternity.  


He had arrived at the gym early to see his coach before the rest of the team arrived. Given that his coach didn’t seem to be surprised to see him on crutches, only being able to limp around slowly, he assumed that Iwaizumi or one of the other third-years had informed him about his injury. Oikawa had managed to finish explaining the entire diagnosis, even the part about how he wouldn’t ever be able to play volleyball again, without crying. Though he still felt sick every time those words left his mouth, he had cried too much yesterday to have any tears left to shed.  


Oikawa had no idea how long he’d been sitting there in silence until his coach exhaled loudly. His expression was unreadable as he looked up at Oikawa. Was he upset that Oikawa wouldn’t be able to play anymore? Was he angry that Oikawa had once again failed to take his team to the National tournament?  


"I’m glad to hear that you’ll be able to walk once you’re healed,” his coach finally said. “Everyone on the team was extremely worried about you when you went to the hospital.”  


“I’m sorry for causing everyone to worry,” Oikawa said, bowing his head. He bit the inside of his cheek. He had managed to not only let down his team with their loss against Karasuno but also gave them the added burden of worrying about his health. While Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki had made it clear that he wasn’t bothering them, he had always been careful about how he presented himself to his underclassmen. After all, what kind of captain would he be if he was causing his teammates to worry? He’d manage to hide his frustrations and disappointments behind a mask of extreme confidence for the last three years, and finally, everyone on the team had seen him crack.  


“Don’t be.“ A gentle smile appeared on his coach’s face. “Oikawa, you’ve done very, very well as the team captain. The others trust you completely and your unwavering belief in their abilities has allowed them to believe in themselves as well. You’ve managed to help them all blossom into the best versions of themselves, both on and off the court, which is no easy feat. What you did, in my opinion, is what makes someone the ultimate captain.”  


Oikawa felt his breath hitch. His coach wasn’t one who gave compliments easily.  


“Three years ago, when you first came to Seijou,” his coach continued. “You came to me and told me that you felt like you were powerless against those who were more talented than you. You said that you felt like no matter how hard you worked, you were constantly being overtaken by those who were natural-born geniuses at volleyball and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Do you remember what I said to you then?”  


Oikawa nodded. Of course he did. “You said to come back and say that to you only after I’d pushed myself to the edge of my limits. That I should only complain about being less talented than others once I exhausted every option I had to improve myself.”  


“Correct. Over the last three years, I’ve seen you do exactly that. I’ve been a coach for many years and have seen many incredibly dedicated players, but I’ve never met anyone who has worked as hard as you do. This past year, you were indisputably the best setter in the prefecture, even if you were not the most talented.” His coach stood up and walked forward to place a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “I’m so incredibly proud of you, Oikawa. No matter what anyone says, know that you didn’t let your so-called lack of talent hold you back. In my eyes, you never need it to climb to the top of the high school volleyball world.”  


Oikawa felt his vision blur as he felt hot tears appearing at the corners of his eyes. He’d probably cried more these past two days than he had ever before. His coach’s words, which would normally have elated him, were bittersweet. He had finally gotten his coach’s validation that he’d pushed himself as hard as he possibly could without the genius that some of his rivals like Kageyama had been blessed with, but it had to come with the end of his volleyball career. He’d dedicated most of his life to fulfilling his dream of climbing the ranks of the volleyball world, and impressing his coach had been another rung on that ladder. But what was the point of that if he could no longer climb any higher?  


“I-I don’t know what to do,” Oikawa admitted. He felt his throat constrict as he gasped for air between sobs. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was play volleyball. I haven’t thought about pursuing anything else after high school. I’m not good at anything besides my sport!”  


“Oikawa, breath,” his coach said. “In for four counts and out for four, just like we do at the beginning of practice.”  


He felt his sobs slowly subside, his chest heaving less heavily, as he followed his coach’s instructions. The tears began to dry, eyes stinging when he blinked.  


“You did an incredible job as a captain and setter these past three years,” his coach said. “And you did it through pure grit and tenacity. I’m certain that if you apply that dedication you had towards volleyball to whatever else you decide to pursue from here on, you’ll be just as successful.”  


“But I don’t know what I want to do.” Oikawa’s voice came out as a cracked whisper. “All I’ve ever thought about is playing volleyball. There’s nothing left once that’s gone.”  


“I’m not saying you need to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life right away,” his coach said. “Of course it’s natural that you mourn the loss of your volleyball career. No one will think any less of you for feeling upset or angry. But, at the same time, you can’t let this hold you back forever. It’s like when you lose the first set in a volleyball match. You let yourself feel angry and upset for a moment, but then you pick yourself back up and keep going or else you’ll lose the entire match before you know it.”  


“If you want my advice,” his coach said. “I’d say take a crack at the college entrance exams that are coming up in a few months. I think another four years in school to figure out what you want to do and finding yourself outside of volleyball would do you good.”  


“I’m not in the college prep class,” Oikawa said, biting his lip. The option had been open to him when he had come to Aoba Johsai three years ago, as his middle school grades had been high enough for him to qualify. However, he had declined, knowing that the academic rigour of the college prep track would take time away from his ability to pursue his main passion and goal, volleyball. It was just another sacrifice that hadn’t ended up paying off.  


“I know you’re not. But your third-year teammates are, aren’t they?”  


Oikawa thought back to what Iwaizumi had said to him yesterday. _You’re not alone._ He’d always hated asking for help from anyone, even his closest friends. Iwaizumi had always said that he cared too much about how others perceived him, and he had probably been right. Oikawa had always felt like he needed to keep up appearances from his underclassmen who looked up to him, as well as anyone who saw him as a person who represented his school and volleyball team. But now, with the skill that had made him a person to look up to was gone, there was no image for him to keep up. By now, he was sure that the entire volleyball team knew about his injury, and it wasn’t like he could hide it given his crutches. Everyone who had been watching the match had seen his career crumble before his eyes.  


He had nothing to hide anymore.  


“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think I’ll do that. I’m sure one of them will be willing to help me out.”  


His coach nodded. “I’m sure most of the team is in the gym by now. I’ll give you some time to talk to them on your own.”  


Oikawa nodded, taking in a deep breath as he pushed himself up to stand, leaning against his crutches. He’d never faced his team feeling as destroyed and broken as he did now. Just a few days ago, having his team see him like this would’ve been one of his biggest fears. But now, with the knowledge that they likely knew of his condition, he found that he didn’t feel afraid at all.  


“And Oikawa?” He paused as his coach called to him one last time. “I’m proud of you, no matter what. Don’t forget that.”  


Oikawa felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He’d always projected an image of utter self-confidence when it came to volleyball, but in truth, he knew that he’d always been painfully insecure. Perhaps it had come from always coming up short to Ushijima when they played against each other in middle school, or from realizing that there were younger players like Kageyama who, with their hoards of natural talent, would one day inevitably surpass him. He had put his all into practicing every day because he loved his sport, but also because he felt like he had something to prove. Finally hearing his coach say those words today felt like he had arrived at the end of a long journey, and that he was about to embark on a new one.  


“Thank you,” he said, not bothering to turn back as he continued out of his coach’s office and into the gym.  


The sound of flying volleyballs hitting the ground immediately stopped as he stepped into the gym. Everyone seemed to stare at him, not moving for a second, before his team immediately rushed to surround him.  


“Oikawa-senpai!”  


“Captain, how are you feeling?”  


“Did they tell you when you can expect your knee to heal?”  


“Hey, do I have to yell at you all again about not overwhelming him?” The first and second-years immediately fell silent as Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa walked into the gym. Oikawa nodded thankfully at his fellow third-years, who were all wearing their normal school uniforms. Oikawa was glad that he wasn’t the only team member not staying today. While the third years had no obligation to come to practices anymore given that their final match was over, if he hadn’t been injured he knew that he’d still be on the courts practicing alongside everyone else.  


“Thank you for worrying about me, everyone,” he said. “I’m sorry if I worried you all. My right knee is fractured but I should be able to walk normally in a couple of months. Unfortunately, my injury was bad enough that continuing to play volleyball might destroy my ability to walk entirely.”  


He saw many of their eyes widen in shock, with a few whispers of “is he serious?” running through the crowd.  


“This means that I won’t be playing volleyball professionally, or at all,” he said. “But that’s enough about me. We lost that last match against Karasuno, but I still meant what I said at the beginning of that match: I believe in you all. Next year, and every tournament after that, I expect you all to continue giving it your all. Even if we weren’t able to accomplish it in the three years we were here, I fully believe in your abilities to finally take Seijou to that National tournament.”  


He saw many of them straighten their posture, a new fire in their eyes. Oikawa swallowed. It definitely hurt, to have to admit to everyone that his career in volleyball and dreams of defeating 

Shiratorizawa had come to end in failure. But, at the same time, he had been honest about what he had said. Even if he was no longer there on the team, he wanted Seijou to one day make their way to play on the National stage.  


“Captain, thank you very much for everything!”  


Oikawa turned, eyes widening in surprise, as Kindaichi stepped forward before bowing deeply. The others hesitated only for a moment before following suit, all bowing together.  


“Thank you very much!”  


"Why are you all thanking me?” Oikawa said. “I should be the one thanking all of you. We may not have gone to Nationals, but I’ve never for a moment regretted my decision to come to Seijou. You’re all the best high school team I could have ever asked for, and I’m honored to have been your captain.”  


He could see a few tears falling to the floor from some of the first and second-years’ faces. Oikawa smiled wryly. He knew that feeling better than anyone: the frustration and anger at having lost as well as the determination to get back up and try again. Seijou had lost the Spring Tournament, but he was certain that they would come back to play better than ever next year.  


Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa walked up with him to guide him out of the gym.  


“Damn, Oikawa. Who knew you could be so sentimental?” Hanamaki said.  


“I didn’t think I’d ever see Kindaichi cry like that,” Matsukawa agreed.  


“Guys,” Oikawa said once they were out of the gym, making them all stop to face him. “I talked with the coach and I think I want to try and take the college entrance exams. I know that it’s late to start preparing for them but-”  


“We’ll help you study for them,” Matsukawa cut in. “What good is there in having three of your teammates in college-prep if they’re not willing to help you out, right?”  


Hanamaki nodded. “I think it’s a good idea too. You don’t know what you want to pursue in the future, right? Going to school for another four years will probably help you figure it out.”  


“I hope you’re prepared to study more than you ever have in your life, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said. “Just because you’re my friend doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on tutoring you.”  


Oikawa grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  


“You might regret that,” Hanamaki said, laughing. “Iwaizumi has made people cry in our class when he corrected their papers because his criticism was so harsh!”  


“Hey, that was once! And it was a really trashy paper!”  


“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re the only person to have made someone cry with a peer review,” Matsukawa pointed out. “Anyways, if we split up the subjects amongst the three of us, I’m sure we can make some good headway. Honestly, Oikawa, you’re smart enough that if you hadn’t been so engrossed in volleyball I think you would’ve been able to keep up with the college-prep material.”  


“I think Iwaizumi should be in charge of teaching him literature and composition,” Hanamaki said with a smirk. “You’ll be sure to get honest feedback on your essays. I can do history and math. Matsukawa, you have an A in English and physics, right?”  


Matsukawa nodded. “I hope you’re prepared to wake up even earlier than you did for morning practices for some morning physics sessions.”  


“If that’s the case, Hanamaki, you can take this guy in the afternoons. I’ll do weekends,” Iwaizumi said. “You have a couple of months until the exams and most of the people taking them have been studying all year, so you better be ready to play catch-up.”  


Oikawa nodded. Of course he knew that it wouldn’t be easy and that there was a huge chance that he wouldn’t score high enough to go to college at all. But he had to try, right? Like the others had said, he couldn’t let his injury hold him back from living the rest of his life. He had to get back up and get through it.  


“Iwa-chan. Mattsun. Makki,” he said, bowing as deeply as he could without losing his balance on his crutches. “Thank you.”  


“Huh? Why are you thanking us?” Matsukawa said. “I thought we agreed back in first year that we don’t thank each other for doing things that friends normally do.”  


“Maybe your injury affected your brain too,” Hanamaki said. “You’ve become disgustingly sentimental today. I almost liked it better when you were overly cocky.”  


“Get up, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said. “We told you yesterday, you’re not alone.”  


Hanamaki and Matsukawa nodded in agreement. Oikawa felt a real, genuine smile bloom in his face.  


“Don’t worry, captain. We’re going to get you into college even if we need to pull all-nighters every night leading up to the exam!”


	4. Exam Day

“Nope. Try again.”  


Oikawa groaned, running a hand through his hair. Matsukawa simply handed back the math practice quiz he had just finished. The two of them were the only ones in Matsukawa’s classroom, it being so early that hardly anyone was on campus. Even the volleyball team hadn’t started their morning practice yet. Oikawa bit his lip, staring at his work once again. What had he done wrong this time?  


He glanced up when he heard Matsukawa yawn, a sight that made him heart twinge with guilt. For the last week, Matsukawa had been meeting him every day before school to tutor him in history and math. As tiring as it was for Oikawa to wake up so early every day, at least he was the one benefiting from it. Matsukawa had nothing to gain from helping him, and in fact, it was probably hurting him by cutting into his sleep schedule.  


The thought pushed Oikawa to redo the problem with renewed vigor. True to their words, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had been helping him study for the college entrance exams nonstop. He would arrive early in the morning to study with Matsukawa before going to his own class. During lunch, he would do his best to finish as much of his homework as possible before the rest of his classes. As soon as the bell rang, Hanamaki would appear at his classroom door, ready to drag him to the library. There, he would work on English and physics until the librarian finally kicked them out. The sun would be setting as he walked home, where he would stay up working through practice problems until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Even on weekends, he would wake up to his alarm ringing early in the morning to prepare for Iwaizumi showing up at his house and reviewing composition and literature with him.  


As exhausting as the constant studying was, Oikawa welcomed the distraction. His busy schedule kept his mind off of his injury and volleyball, as well as the mess of emotions surrounding his forced career change. Ever since the day of his injury, Oikawa hadn’t set foot in the gym or touched any of his volleyball gear. He would have time to sort through his feelings later, he had decided. His priority now had to be preparing as much as possible for the college exams. He had been determined to do his best from the beginning, but the sacrifices that all of his friends solidified that he _had_ to score well.  


“Here, is this any better?” he asked, returning the corrected math problem to Matsukawa.  


“Yeah, you got it right this time,” Matsukawa said. “Here, just be sure to do these extra problems this weekend so we can start the next topic on Monday.”  


Oikawa held in a groan as Matsukawa handed him a thick stack of papers. He knew that a similar packet of extra work would be coming from Hanamaki after school, on top of the all-day tutoring that he would experience from Iwaizumi on both days of the weekend. As much as he wanted to protest, he knew that it wasn’t like his friends were just torturing him with work for the fun of it. He would be taking the exams against students who were on the college-prep track, as well as those who had been preparing since the beginning of the school year. He needed every extra practice problem he had time for to catch up.  


“You know, Oikawa, you’re actually doing really well in English,” Hanamaki said, looking over the worksheet Oikawa had handed him. A glance at the clock on the wall showed that they were entering the third hour of their after school study session that Hanamaki had dragged him to as soon as his last class had ended. “I guess you’re better at humanities than math and science, huh?”  


Oikawa grimaced. “Am I doing that badly with physics?”  


“No, you’re actually picking up on it a lot faster than I expected,” Hanamaki said. “It’s just that there’s a lot of material that we need to get through before the exams. Compared to that, your English is basically on the level as most of the college-prep class students. You’re lucky that you’re smart to begin with, or else trying to prepare in this short of a time frame would’ve been a pipe dream.”  


Oikawa had to smile at the irony. He had spent years cursing his lack of volleyball talent, only for his hard work to come up short in the last match. Now, Hanamaki was praising his natural academic abilities that he had never put too much effort into, and thought that it might be enough to get him into college.  


“Anyways, here’s your homework for this weekend,” Hanamaki said, giving him a number of stapled papers. “I think we should cut down on the amount of time you spend on English and focus on raising your physics score.”  


“Just this?” Oikawa asked, surprised. The work Hanamaki had handed him was less than half as much as he normally gave him.  


“Yup. But that means you should have enough time to check all of your work twice.” A smirk appeared on Hanamaki’s face. “If you have any wrong answers, you can buy me lunch.”  


***  


“Hey Trashykawa, what’s with this sentence?” Iwaizumi said, pointing to a part of Oikawa’s sample essay. “It sounds like an elementary schooler wrote it! Watch your word choice.”  


“And here I was thinking that Matsukawa was exaggerating about you making someone cry during a peer review,” Oikawa mumbled, though not soft enough to escape Iwaizumi’s detection.  


“I have to be harsh if we’re going to prepare you for the exam in time! Here, look over this and mark the grammatical mistakes you see.”  


Oikawa nodded, pressing his pencil hard against the desk as he circled a punctuation error. “Hey, Iwa-chan?”  


“What?”  


“Do you think I’m wasting your time?” he asked, circling a misused verb. “I mean, all this time you’re spending with me is time you could be using to prepare on your own, right?”  


“The only waste of time I see is you doubting yourself when you could be studying. You missed one here,” Iwaizumi said, pointing to the paper. “The three of us wouldn’t be bothering to help you if we didn’t think you could do it. Believe it or not, Trashykawa, you’re actually pretty smart. Given how much you’ve been studying and how fast we’re getting through the material, I think you’ll get in somewhere.”  


Oikawa hummed in response, not sure what to say. Perhaps his facial expression had given away how he was feeling, because Iwaizumi spoke again.  


“Are you worried because you know how many kids take the exams and don’t get into any colleges at all?” Iwaizumi asked.  


Oikawa hesitated for a second before nodding. “I mean, statistically I’m not likely to get in, right?”  


“Of course not. You’re not in college prep, you don’t go to cram school, and you just started preparing. The only way you could be worse off is if you just showed up for the exam without preparing at all,” Iwaizumi said. “But statistics don’t matter if you’re the exception to the rule. I mean, no one expected Karasuno to qualify for the National tournament, but they managed to beat Shiratorizawa, right? If that team can beat Ushijima, then there’s no way it’s impossible for you to get into college.”  


“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” he said, smirking. “You know, you can look really scary but you’re kind of a softie.”  


“Shut up. Get back to reading.” Iwaizumi glared at him, but Oikawa caught the corners of his mouth turning upward too.  


***  


The morning of the college entrance exams, Oikawa felt absolutely sick.  


He never got nervous when it came to volleyball matches. Even when he was facing an opponent that he’d never been able to beat, the excitement and adrenaline had always overtaken any nerves. How did players who got nervous before they played manage to run around on the court feeling like this?  


With two months having passed since his injury, Oikawa’s knee brace was gone and he was able to walk on his own. He still had a slight limp and his leg definitely felt stiff, but he preferred it to having to stumble around on crutches. However, the slight pain that shot up through his leg whenever his knee bumped into anything, no matter how lightly, combined with his nerves had prevented him from sleeping for most of the night. It showed in the dark bags that had appeared under his eyes. They were a sight that had become much more common in the last month, when his friends had taken their vow to “help him pass even if they had to pull all nighters every night” literally. He pouted, putting on his glasses. It wasn’t like how he looked mattered today, anyways. All he needed to do today was to score high enough to get into a college.  


Thanks to his nerves, he was barely able to eat before he decided that it would be better to just give up on following his normal morning routine and just head to school, where the exam was being held. He glanced down at his phone, firing off a quick text message to Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa that he was leaving his house before stepping out the door. Iwaizumi was the one who had guessed that Oikawa would feel nervous today and had suggested that the four of them meet up outside the Seijou gates to make sure he was feeling okay.  


When his school finally came into view, he saw Iwaizumi and Hanamaki already there. Perhaps his face gave away how he was feeling, because Hanamaki immediately looked concerned.  


“Hey, Oikawa, are you feeling okay?”  


He nodded. “I just had a hard time sleeping last night.”  


“I told you that you’d be nervous,” Iwaizumi said. “Well, seeing that there’s nothing you can do about it now, just try your best not to fall asleep in the middle of the exam or freak out too much.”  


“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protested. “Don’t you have anything more encouraging to say?”  


Iwaizumi shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do at this point besides trying your best. You studied and prepared as much as humanly possible. Regardless of how it ends up going, you did as much as you can, and that’s all you can ask anyone for, right?”  


“Hey! Sorry that I’m the last one here.” The three of them turned to see Matsukawa walking up to them. “Feel ready, Oikawa?”  


“He was just freaking out about the exam,” Hanamaki said. “Iwaizumi seems to have managed to talk him out of it though.”   


Oikawa took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks for helping me prepare for today, guys. I won’t let you down.”  


Matsukawa grinned. “What did we tell you about not having to thank us?”  


“Yeah. You’ll be fine, Oikawa. You had all three of us helping you, after all,” Hanamaki said.  


“Come on, Trashykawa. Let’s go and check in.”  


Oikawa followed the three of them towards the check-in station, his heart pounding in his ears. This feeling was so similar to how he felt going into the Spring Tournament, knowing that it was his last chance to fulfill his dreams of going to Nationals. Just like that time, he had one chance to score well enough on his exam to get into college.  


Iwaizumi had said that all he had done his absolute best, and that was all anyone could ask for. He was correct, right? It was the same thing his coach had said to him about volleyball, after all. Just like all his hours of practice had been enough for him to beat Kageyama’s natural genius when they had played against each other at the Inter-High tournament, he just had to hope that his efforts would be enough to get him through the exam.  


***  


“So, how’d you feel about the exam?”  


Oikawa and Iwaizumi were at the ramen shop they had frequented every time they had lost a volleyball game. Though it felt a little strange to be there considering that they hadn’t even just played a match, the two had decided to go for old time’s sake. They had finally finished their second and final day of exams, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki had gone home, saying that they were too burnt out to be able to hold any semblance of a conversation.  


“I don’t know,” Oikawa admitted. “I think I did okay, but there were a lot of things that I wasn’t completely sure about. If I got all of those questions wrong, I doubt I scored high enough to qualify for a college.”  


“Well, that’s to be expected given how little time you had to prepare,” Iwaizumi agreed. “At least it’s done now and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”  


“It was kind of nice though,” Oikawa said. “Having you, Makki, and Mattsun constantly giving me work to do. It was a nice distraction from thinking about everything that happened.”  


Iwaizumi didn’t miss the wistful glance that Oikawa had taken towards his knee. “I was surprised that you seemed to get over it so quickly, especially given how distraught you were the day that it happened.”  


“I didn’t get over it,” Oikawa admitted. “I haven’t let myself think about my injury or volleyball at all since then. Knowing that I had so much to do to prepare for exams was a convenient distraction, but now that they’re over, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”  


He moved around some of the noodles in his bowl with his chopsticks. “I mean, I don’t feel like it’s healthy for me to just ignore how angry I feel whenever I think about what happened. I can’t even watch volleyball without getting upset.I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now that I’m going to have all this time that I can’t fill with volleyball.”  


“You know, Trashykawa, you’re actually a pretty honest guy when you’re not trying to keep that stupid, fake grin on your face,” Iwaizumi said. He let out a breath. “I don’t think you need to know what you’re going to replace volleyball right away, or that it’s unexpected that you’re still feeling upset about what happened. It’s a big change, after all.”  


“I guess,” Oikawa said. “It just feels weird to know that I’m not expected to be anywhere before and after school every day anymore, or that I don’t have to spend my weekends at practice. I’ve spent all these years making my life revolve around volleyball that I don’t know if I have anything left without it.”  


“Maybe that’s the thing,” Iwaizumi said. “You’ve basically sacrificed everything for volleyball up until this point. Maybe it’s okay for you to have some time to be a normal high schooler for once. Everyone would agree that you deserve it.”  



	5. A Blank Slate

Oikawa had never wanted to be normal.  


He knew that he had always been an attention-seeker, ever since he was a child. He had liked it when his parents’ friends had fawned over how cute he was when he was littleand had basked in the praise of his teachers whenever he did well on a test. In middle school, nothing made him happier than having someone tell him that he had played well in a match or that his setting skills were unrivaled in the prefecture’s junior high division.  


But now, taking Iwaizumi’s suggestion to experience “normal high school life,” Oikawa had to admit that maybe being normal wasn’t so bad. Of course he missed the feeling of having people scream his name from his stands when he was about to serve or the surge of excitement that he felt when he was interviewed as one of the prefecture’s top volleyball players, but there were a lot of things he realized he’d been missing out on. He no longer had to cram doing his homework into his lunch break and had time in the mornings and after school to talk with his non-volleyball friends that he had neglected the more that he focused on his sport. It was even nice to be spending time with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki in a setting outside of volleyball.  


That didn’t mean that he liked being normal more than his old, volleyball-centric schedule, though. Now that he no longer had the pressure of exams weighing down on him, he found his angry emotions bubbling up when he least expected them. It took all of his energy sometimes to keep them in check and hold in the tears that suddenly seemed to want to stream down his face. He felt the anger that he had felt when he had first learned he’d no longer be able to play volleyball, that feeling that the world had unfairly stripped him of a critical part of his identity, when he took the shortcut by the gym one morning and could hear shouts from the team’s morning practice. When his nephew had made a comment about how he “wanted to be just like him because he was a super-cool captain of a powerhouse team,” Oikawa felt himself having to bite back tears instead of feeling the usual surge of pride that he did.  


But what hurt most of all was when he would lay in bed, unable to fall asleep at night, questioning everything he was doing. Back when he had been playing volleyball, it had all seemed so simple. Everything he did in his life was for the sole purpose of improving as a setter. He thought about tactics when he walked to school, spent his spare time practicing or watching matches of rival schools, and most of his conversations with the other third-years on the team had revolved around the sport. Now that he didn't know what to do with his life, what was he supposed to think about on his walk to school? As much as he enjoyed talking to his friends about nothing in particular, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had lost his direction and was stumbling around blindly.  


“Iwa-chan, what do you want to do after high school?”  


“Huh?” Iwaizumi turned to his friend, who was staring ahead blankly. The two had been walking home together now that Oikawa didn’t need to be tutored every day, with Hanamaki and Matsukawa sometimes joining them. “Why are you asking me that now? You know that I’m planning to go to college for sports science.”  


Oikawa nodded. “I know. But how did you know that’s what you wanted to do?”  


Iwaizumi looked at him for a long moment, as if guessing why Oikawa asked him that, before answering. “I used to be the way you probably feel now. I liked volleyball but knew I wasn’t good enough to play professionally. It wasn’t like I was particularly good at any one subject, though I wasn’t really bad at any of them either. But do you remember when I got hurt during that practice match in our first year? I was freaking out because I thought that I’d injured myself and ended my high school career before it ever began. But with the help of the doctors and physical therapists I saw, I was able to keep playing until the end of high school. I guess that made me want to help people one day too.”  


“Huh. Who knew you’d end up going into sports science, given how often you’ve hit me with a volleyball?” Oikawa said.  


“I only do that because you get too easily distracted by your fangirls. I hate guys that girls squeal over,” Iwaizumi said. “It’s annoying.”  


“Are you sure you’re not just jealous of me, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa teased.  


“Why the hell would I be jealous of you, Trashykawa?”  


***  


Oikawa found it difficult to make breakfast given that he’d hardly slept the night before. He had barely stopped himself from accidentally pouring orange juice into his bowl of cereal instead of the glass next to it, and felt like he was in some sort of dazed trance. It was the opposite of how his nerves had presented themselves on the day of the college entrance exams. That day, he’d been hyper-aware of everything around him, adrenaline pumping to keep him on edge. He was just as nervous today, though it took the form of being unable to focus on anything. Thankfully, he had cleared out his schedule for the entire Saturday.  


It was the day exam results would be coming out, after all.  


Logically, Oikawa knew that he shouldn’t be nervous. As his friends were constantly reminding him, he’d already taken the exam. There was nothing he could do to change his score at this point. Even so, he couldn’t seem to take his mind off of the knowledge that there were many students who had started preparing long before he had who didn’t score high enough to get into any schools. His chances of managing to get into college certainly weren’t good, even with the help of his three friends.  


“Trashykawa! Open up!”  


A voice at the door pulled Oikawa out of his thoughts as he went to open it. Just as he had thought, Iwaizumi was standing at the door, knocking impatiently.  


“I know your house gets your mail before mine,” he said, holding up an envelope. “And my scores just came in. As promised, I’m here to open them with you so you don’t end up being too scared to open yours for a week.”  


Oikawa blinked. Had he really been lost in his thoughts for so long?  


“I hadn’t realized that they came in already,” he said, opening his mailbox. As Iwaizumi had said, there was an envelope addressed to him. “I’m not scared to open mine!”  


“Whatever you say,” Iwaizumi said, letting himself into the house as Oikawa followed.  


Despite his words, Oikawa felt his fingers tightening around the envelope. _Please let me have scored high enough to get into college. Any college. Just please let me get in somewhere_ , he thought.  


“Would it help if I opened mine first?” Oikawa was certain that Iwaizumi had caught onto his nerves at this point. Thankfully, his friend wasn’t teasing him about it. Oikawa contemplated the offer for a second before nodding.  


“You aren’t nervous?” he asked, handing Iwaizumi a letter opener.  


“Of course I am,” Iwaizumi said. “But there’s nothing that I can do to change anything now.”  


He tore open the envelope and pulled on the paper inside, unfolding it. Oikawa watched his friend’s emotionless expression as he read the sheet, before it finally split into a grin.  


“High enough to make it into Miyagi Prefectural College!” Iwaizumi exclaimed.  


“Are you serious? Congrats!” Oikawa said, standing to look over at the sheet of paper. Sure enough, Iwaizumi’s score was high enough to guarantee him admission to Miyagi Prefectural College, which only used the exam scores to decide who would be admitted. Knowing that his friend had been hoping to stay close to home for university, Oikawa’s smile was sincere at the knowledge that Iwaizumi would be able to do just that.  


“Your turn now,” Iwaizumi said, handing him the letter opener. When Oikawa hesitated to take it, he added, “Just remember that you did everything you could.”  


Nodding, Oikawa took the letter opener and gingerly cut open the envelope. He carefully pulled the folded sheet of paper out and closed his eyes as he unfolded it. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. _Here goes nothing._  


“I-” Oikawa choked on his words, not believing what he was seeing. His eyes reread the score listed once more, and then again. “I did it!”  


“What?” Iwaizumi quickly plucked the letter out of his shaking hands to read it for himself. His grin grew even wider. “What the hell, Oikawa? You managed to score this high with only a couple months of studying?”  


“I-I guess.” Oikawa was shaking and couldn’t stop himself from stuttering. He was gulping in air in shallow breaths, but it was nothing like the distraught, endless tears that he had felt when he had gotten injured. Instead, for perhaps the first time since that day, it felt like something was going right. His score wasn’t anywhere close to Iwaizumi’s, but Oikawa knew that it would be enough to get him into some smaller, lesser-known schools. Given his low expectations, that was more than he could have ever asked for.  


“You have to text Hanamaki and Matsukawa,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m pretty sure Matsukawa would’ve killed you if you didn’t pass, given that he had to wake up so early to tutor you every day.”  


“Good thing I passed,” Oikawa muttered, though he quickly texted both of them. Hanamaki and Matsukawa both replied immediately with a “Congratulations!” and told him that they had both scored high enough to be attending university as well.  


“Congrats, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said, as Oikawa leaned back in his chair, feeling the tension leach out from all of his muscles. It wasn’t like he had done anything that day, but he already felt exhausted. Still, he and Iwaizumi’s grins hadn’t faded a bit. “I knew you could do it. Even if you don’t believe it yourself, you’re not just some volleyball idiot.”  


***  


“Hey, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, have you decided on where you’re going to college yet?” Iwaizumi asked.  


The four of them were sitting around Oikawa’s room, various textbooks scattered on the floor. Given that college entrance exams were over now and that graduation was right around the corner, even Iwaizumi had admitted that he had a hard time getting motivated to keep up with his studies. As a final attempt to combat their lack of motivation, the four of them had started meeting on weekends to study together.  


“Yeah, Sendai College,” Matsukawa said.  


“And Miyagi Junior College, Central Sendai Campus for me,” Hanamki added. “I guess all three of us are staying within the prefecture.”  


“What about you, Oikawa?” Matsukawa asked. “The deadline to decide is pretty soon.”  


Oikawa nodded. While he had managed to score high enough on the entrance exams to attend college, his score was still relatively low for college admits. Unlike Matsukawa and Iwaizumi, he didn’t qualify for any of the four-year universities in the prefecture. That left him with the option to either go to a junior college in Miyagi, like Hanamaki, or leave the prefecture for a smaller and less competitive four-year school.  


“I know that you’re not sure about what you want to do,” Hanamaki said, picking up on his silence. “But do you have any sort of interest in learning a trade or going into a technical field?”  


“Not really,” Oikawa admitted. “I mean, I know that it was probably asking for too much but I was hoping to get into a four-year university.”  


“I know you said you don’t qualify for any of the ones in Miyagi,” Hanamki said. “But what about going outside of the prefecture? I mean, I’m sure there are smaller four-year schools somewhere that you’d make the cut for.”  


“Yeah,” Matsukawa said. “I have a cousin who went to a small, four-year college in Tokyo, and her exam scores were lower than yours.”  


“Maybe,” was all Oikawa said. Perhaps it didn’t make any sense that someone who had been planning on playing volleyball internationally was hesitant about going to a different prefecture for college, but Oikawa found the latter to be much more daunting. With volleyball, he had known that no matter where he went, he would have a place that he belonged on the team. That was part of the reason why he had enjoyed playing setter, after all. The setter was the glue that held the team together, and in turn, would always have a team to turn to as long as their skills were enough to keep their spot. On the other hand, going to college in a completely new place had no guarantee that he would have a group of people to rely on. As lame as it sounded, he would be going from being one of the most popular students in his year and captain of the volleyball team to becoming just another “normal” student. The prospect of having to do that completely alone, in a completely new place, scared him to say the least.  


“I think leaving the prefecture might be a good thing for you,” Iwaizumi said. “I mean, you still haven’t been able to completely get over the idea that you aren’t able to play volleyball anymore, right? If you stay in Sendai, or even stay within the prefecture, a lot of the people playing volleyball at the college level will recognize you and they’re bound to ask you why you’re not playing anymore. I hate to admit it, but you’re probably the most recognized high school volleyball players in the prefecture besides Ushijima. On the other hand, Seijou has never been to Nationals, so I doubt people will recognize you anywhere else. It might be good for you to be able to start on a completely blank slate, at a place where no one knows who you are.”  


Oikawa contemplated his words. A blank slate. A place where no one would recognize him as the volleyball player he once was and would instead see him for whatever he managed to accomplish from here on out.  


“Mattsun,” he said. “What’s the name of the college your cousin went to?”  


“Huh? Nermia College,” Matsukawa said. “In Nermia City, Tokyo.”  


Oikawa had remained quiet for the rest of their group study session. Once his friends had left, deciding that they had done enough for a day, he opened up his laptop and did a quick search on Nerima College. Just like Matsukawa had said, his exam scores were high enough for him to get in.  


A smile spread across his face. Going out to Tokyo would be a completely fresh start. There would be no one questioning him as to why he was no longer playing. He would have a chance to figure out who he was, now that he no longer had his sport.  


Maybe going to Tokyo all alone wouldn’t be so bad, after all.  


***  


Oikawa scrolled through the admitted students’ page on Facebook for Nerima College.  


Most of the posts were of students introducing themselves and dated back to about a  
month ago, which was when the deadline to commit had been. Oikawa had committed to Nerimia and paid his deposit and fees the day before they had all been due. Despite the fact that he had decided that leaving the prefecture would be the best way for him to move on from his volleyball injury, it had taken him a few weeks to work up the courage to announce his decision. Since then, his days were a flurry of making sure all his paperwork had gone in while keeping his grades up. In all the things he had been keeping track of, he had completely forgotten about the fact that he needed to find a place to live in Tokyo until now.  


He stopped scrolling when he finally found what he was looking for: a post from someone looking for a roommate for an apartment near the school. It was only a few days old, indicating that perhaps the person who had posted it had, like him, forgotten about the need to find housing until then. The location was within walking distance of campus and the price was affordable considering the size of the apartment. It seemed to check all of the boxes for what he was looking for.  


Oikawa went up to the search bar and looked up the name of his potential future roommate, and his introductory post popped up. Apparently he was a pre-medical student and an incoming first-year, like him, who was from the Tokyo area. He bit the inside of his cheek as he read the rest of the post. The guy was also on the Nerima College Men’s Volleyball Team, and had been captain of his team back in high school. Clicking through some of the attached pictures, Oikawa stopped at one that showed the guy and his team in front of a sign that read, “Japan High School Volleyball Spring National Tournament” Considering that the team was dressed in their uniforms, he assumed that they had qualified for Nationals and had competed there.  


He sighed. This guy would’ve been the perfect roommate if it wasn’t clear that he was a serious volleyball player. What was the point in him going all the way to Tokyo if he was going to be living with someone who played volleyball for the college team, and had done what he couldn’t do and gone to Nationals? He clicked back to the main admitted students’ page and went back to scrolling.  


A sudden ringing on his phone paused his scrolling as he picked it up. “Hello?”  


“Hey, Trashykawa. Did you manage to find a roommate yet?” Iwaizumi asked.  


Oikawa looked at the post in front of him. He’d been scrolling through for long enough that he was looking at messages from weeks ago. Every other roommate request he had found seemed to have already been answered by someone else.  


“No,” he said. “It looks like everyone already found a roommate at this point.”  


“I told you not to wait so long,” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa could hear him sigh.  


“I forgot! There was so much to keep track of,” Oikawa said. “There’s one guy who’s still looking for a roommate but of course he happens to be on the college volleyball team and apparently even went to Nationals back in high school.”  


“Let me guess, you’re looking for anyone else to room with instead because you don’t want a volleyball idiot as a roommate?” Iwaizumi said.  


“I mean, yeah. If I’m going all the way to Tokyo to get away from volleyball, wouldn’t living with someone who’s on the team defeat the point?”  


“It’s not ideal,” Iwaizumi agreed. “But do you have any other options at this point? You need to find a roommate, right?”  


Oikawa sighed. “He looks like the only person that doesn’t have one yet.”  


“Well, Trashykawa, beggars can’t be choosers unless you want to be living on the streets,” Iwaizumi said. “Besides, you’re going to Tokyo so you can get away from _your_ involvement in volleyball, right? Just don’t say that you used to play and talk about something else with the guy.”  


“I guess,” Oikawa said. Though he would still have preferred a different roommate, he knew that finding an affordable place to live in Tokyo wasn’t an easy task. If he didn’t take this opportunity, there was a possibility that he really wouldn’t have a place to live when he started college. “I’ll message him.”  


“Honestly, I feel like I’m your third parent sometimes,” he heard Iwaizumi mutter. “That’s what you should’ve done from the beginning.”  


“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, before hanging up. Setting his phone down, he started to draft a private message to the guy who was looking for a roommate.  


_Hey Kuroo. My name is Oikawa and I’m looking for a roommate too…_


	6. Not a Goodbye

Oikawa’s last month in Miyagi passed in a blur. Before he had realized it, his diploma was in his hands as he left the Seijou grounds as a student for the last time. 

“Can you believe we finally made it?” Hanamaki asked as he, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa walked home together. “There were so many points in the last three years where I really didn’t think I was going to last until graduation!” 

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been three years,” Matsukawa agreed. “And to think that in a few weeks, we won’t all even be in the same prefecture anymore.” 

“Don’t worry, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said. “We’re coming to send you off when you catch the train to Tokyo. We can’t have you crying on the train and causing a public disturbance because you miss us so much.” 

“I wouldn’t cry!” Oikawa scoffed, though Hanamaki chuckled. 

“Nerima College, huh?” Hanamaki said. “I’ll admit that I respect you for being brave enough to go out there all on your own.” 

“I think we should be more worried about him than anything,” Iwaizumi said. “Especially since this idiot almost forgot that he needed to find a place to live despite all the times I reminded him.” 

“At least you won’t have to keep being Oikawa’s second mom,” Matsukawa agreed. 

“Hey! I found someone who was looking for a roommate at the same time, so it ended up being fine!” Oikawa protested. The day after he had sent his message, Kuroo had replied and the two of them agreed to live together for the upcoming year. Oikawa had sent a few pictures and introduced himself, though he only mentioned that he was from Miyagi and was undecided on his major. As Iwaizumi had suggested, he never mentioned anything about his volleyball career. 

“I just feel bad for your roommate if he ends up having to baby you like I did,” Iwaizumi said with a shrug. 

Their bickering felt strangely bittersweet, as Oikawa knew that although they would see each other over breaks and still keep in touch, it wouldn’t be the same. Over the last three years, he'd spent hours every day with Hanamaki and Matsukawa because of volleyball. Iwaizumi had been by his side for as long as he could remember, even before they started playing volleyball together. 

He would miss all of them more than he would ever admit. 

*** 

“Trashykawa! Where the hell are you?” 

Oikawa grimaced as Iwaizumi’s voice yelled at him on the phone. “I told you, I’m almost there!” 

“Why are the three of us here before you are?” Iwaizumi shot back. “Hurry up idiot, or you’re going to miss the train!” 

“You didn’t have to come so early…” Oikawa mumbled, tuning Iwaizumi out as he pulled his suitcase behind him. It rattled over the uneven sidewalk as he finally arrived at the train station. 

“I’m here!” he exclaimed, though he sighed at the sight of all the stairs he would have to lug his suitcase up. Of course the elevator had to be broken today. “I need both of my hands so I’m going to hang up, Iwa-chan.” 

“Found him!” 

Oikawa had his suitcase gripped with both hands, ready to haul it up the stairs, when he looked up. Matsukawa was walking down the steps, with Hanamaki and Iwaizumi appearing right behind him. 

“Why are you here so late?” Matsukawa grumbled. “We’ve had to listen to Iwaizumi complain about waiting for you for the last fifteen minutes. And let go, I’ll get your suitcase.” 

“Huh? You don’t have to-” 

“You’re still not supposed to strain your knee, right?” Matsukawa said. Oikawa reluctantly nodded, letting go of the suitcase so Matsukawa could carry it instead. “Honestly, you would think that you would’ve gotten better at asking for help at some point during high school.” 

“If you want him constantly asking you for help, just switch places with me,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. Hanamaki laughed and moved to help Matsukawa carry the suitcase. 

“Ready for Tokyo?” Iwaizumi asked him as they followed Matsukawa and Hanamaki up the steps. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Oikawa said. 

“You’re an awful liar, you know. You sound terrified,” Iwaizumi pointed out. “Don’t worry, Trashykawa. You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, we both know you’ll just end up calling me for help and I’ll have to deal with your problems for you, so you’ll still be fine.” 

“It’s going to be weird, not going to the same school as you for the first time,” Oikawa admitted. “And not seeing you every day.” 

“It was going to happen eventually,” Iwaizumi said. “We were never planning on doing the same thing after high school from the beginning. You had three years to get used to the idea.” 

“Iwa-chan, you were supposed to say something comforting!” Oikawa complained. 

“If you wanted to be comforted, you’re talking to the wrong person.” 

As they arrived at the top of the steps, Hanamaki handed him his suitcase. Because Oikawa had arrived later than he had planned, the train had already started boarding. 

“Well, I guess this is it,” he said, glancing at the train. “Thanks for coming, guys. I-” 

“I’m going to cut you off right there before you start getting disgustingly sentimental,” Hanamaki interrupted. “Don’t say anything along the lines of “I’m glad I met you all,” or “I’ll always cherish our friendship,” or “I guess this is goodbye.” Even if you’re in Tokyo, we know that you’re going to end up calling us all the time. There’s no need to get sappy about it.” 

“He has a point,” Matsukawa said. “You only need to say “goodbye” if it’s the last time you’re seeing someone, so unless you’re planning on never coming back to Miyagi-” 

“I won’t say it,” Oikawa promised. “I won’t say any of those things. Everything Makki just listed is true, and I _was_ planning on saying a few of them, but you guys already know that.” 

“You somehow still managed to make it sappy,” Hanamaki muttered. “But I guess you’ve always been like that, Oikawa. Don’t let Tokyo change you too much.” 

Matsukawa nodded. “Make some smart friends once you get there, so that if you need it, they can carry you through exams like we did.” 

“Text us once you get to your new place,” Iwaizumi said, looking down. “So we know your roommate isn’t some crazy serial killer.” 

“Hey, you were the one who said I should room with him!” Oikawa said. “You can’t be having doubts now!” 

“Fine.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “Don’t complain if you get murdered and no one comes looking for you.” 

“Iwa-chan, that’s so mean!” 

_”All passengers boarding the bullet train from Sendai City to Tokyo, please take your seats. The train will be departing shortly."_

Oikawa looked at the train once the announcement ended. “I guess it’s time for me to go.” 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa nodded. There wasn’t much else to say. Like Hanamaki had said earlier, it wasn’t like him going to Tokyo was going to end their friendship or that they were never going to see each other again. The four of them, alongside the rest of the Seijou Volleyball Team, had never been the type to give sentimental speeches. 

That was why Oikawa inhaled sharply when Iwaizumi stepped forward and quickly enveloped him in a hug. Despite how long they had been friends, Oikawa could count on one hand the number of times his friend had embraced him. The last time was three years ago, when they had lost their last middle school match against Shiratorizawa. Iwaizumi had seen him crying tears of frustration at their loss, and that embrace had said everything that he hadn’t said in words. _”This isn’t the end, so pick yourself up and we’ll get through this together.”_

“Good luck, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, before releasing him. “Remember that even if you’re halfway across the country, you’re not alone.” 

Oikawa nodded, a bittersweet smile appearing across his face. He really was lucky to have such wonderful friends. “Thanks. Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, I’ll see you all later.” 

As he picked up his suitcase and stepped onto the train to find his seat, he could hear his friends still talking amongst each other. 

“That has to be the first time in three years that he didn’t call me by that stupid nickname!” he heard Hanamaki exclaim. 

“I’d bet that he said that just to rile you up one last time,” Matsukawa said. “Given how upset you get whenever he starts being sappy.” 

“Come on, you two. Let’s go.” 

Oikawa walked further into the train to find his seat, and after storing his luggage, leaned against the window. He was finally about to leave the city he called home, and all the people he’d grown up with, behind. He had come to terms with the fact that it was necessary if he really wanted to move on from volleyball, but knowing that he wouldn’t be seeing this train station again for a long time made him bite his lip. When he saw three familiar figures pass by his window, not noticing him, and continuing on to exit the train station, he closed his eyes. 

It wasn’t goodbye. It was a “see you later” until the next time he saw them, once he figured out who he was without volleyball. 

*** 

A few hours of transferring to shorter train lines later, Oikawa finally found himself in front of the address that Kuroo had sent him. He yawned, still slightly sleepy from having fallen asleep on the train. The entrance to the apartment looked just like the image Kuroo had sent him and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Iwaizumi’s words rang in his head. 

_“Text us once you get to your new place so we know your roommate isn’t some crazy serial killer.”_

Oikawa told himself that Iwaizumi had just been kidding. As far as he knew, Kuroo was just another Nerima College student, just like him, who also happened to play volleyball. Still, that didn’t stop him from hesitating slightly before ringing the doorbell. 

A few moments passed before the door squeaked open. Oikawa found himself in front of a tall man, around his height, with messy black hair that fell over one eye. Had he just woken up? 

“Oikawa?” the man asked, and Oikawa nodded. A grin split over the man’s face. “Nice to meet you, I’m Kuroo. Glad that you finally made it.” 

Kuroo helped him bring his suitcase inside despite Oikawa’s protests that he could do it himself before showing him to his room. After a quick tour of the apartment which consisted of two bedrooms, a main living space, a small kitchen, and a bathroom, Kuroo handed him a set of keys. 

“Here’s yours,” he said. “If you need help getting around Tokyo at all, just let me know. I went to high school here in Nerima, so I know my way around.” 

“Thanks.” Oikawa pocketed the keys. “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you decide to live on your own if you’re from the area?” 

“I actually don’t live that close by,” Kuroo said. “It took me an hour just to get to high school every day so I stayed with a friend who lived closer half the time. I figured that commuting wouldn’t be sustainable once I got to college, given that Nermia is known for how intense its pre-med track is. Plus, my parents wanted me to move out to get used to living on my own.” 

“An hour just to get to high school is a long time,” Oikawa said. Everyone he knew at Aoba Johsai had lived within a reasonable biking or walking distance. 

Kuroo shrugged. “I guess. It was a school that I’d wanted to play volleyball for ever since I was younger though, so when they invited me to play for them, I couldn’t turn it down. What about you, though? Isn’t it pretty unusual for someone to come all the way from Miyagi to attend Nerima?” 

“Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t do so great on the college entrance exams,” Oikawa admitted. The words surprised him even as they came out of his mouth. The person he’d been before his injury would’ve never admitted such a thing, especially not to someone he had just met, but he was different now. He was in a new place, and Kuroo knew nothing about him. It wouldn’t hurt him to be honest here. “I hadn’t really planned on going to college until a few months before the exam, so I guess it was to be expected given that I had to cram for the entire thing. There weren't a lot of schools that I qualified for." 

Kuroo’s eyes widened. “You only prepped for a few months and scored high enough to get into colleges? Everyone I know started preparing at the beginning of the school year! What are you, some kind of genius?” 

“No,” Oikawa said, a slight smile on his face remembering all the hours of tutoring his friends had put him through. “I was just lucky enough to have friends who were willing to make me pass at all cost.” 

“Damn, I wish I had friends who could boost my score that much,” Kuroo muttered. “You decided to take the entrance exams just a few months before they happened, though? You have a lot of guts.” 

Oikawa shrugged. “It was more just a chain of events that were outside of my control. The path I was planning on following after graduation...ended up not working out.” He found himself glancing at his knee before he realized what he was doing, quickly pulling his gaze up again. Kuroo must’ve realized he’d hit a sensitive topic because he immediately changed the subject. Though, unfortunately for Oikawa, the new topic was just as painful. 

“I’m also on the school’s volleyball team, so I might be out of the apartment a lot,” Kuroo said. “What about you, Oikawa? Were you a sports guy in high school?” 

“Sports guy” didn’t even come close to describing it. Though he knew Kuroo was just asking an innocent question, Oikawa felt a flood of emotions overwhelm him. His entire life until his injury had revolved around volleyball. His life after high school was supposed to be dedicated to the sport. Although their team had never managed to defeat Shiratorizawa, Oikawa was willing to bet that no one in Miyagi practiced harder or for longer than they did. Everyone on the Seijou volleyball team had sacrificed having a normal high school experience so that the team could become as strong as possible. 

Oikawa swallowed. Kuroo didn’t know any of that. That was the point of him coming to Tokyo, wasn’t it? So he could leave behind all the years of tears and bruises by surrounding him with people who had no idea who he had been a mere few months ago. 

“I wasn’t,” he lied. “I’ve never been the athletic type.” 

Iwaizumi claimed that he was a bad liar, but Kuroo simply nodded. 

“Well, there’s going to be a practice match between our school and one of the other colleges nearby at the end of the second week of classes. Apparently it’s a pretty big deal, so a lot of the students go and watch. You’re welcome to come too, if you’re interested.” 

Oikawa nodded, fighting to keep his expression blank. He hadn’t been able to do anything that remotely reminded him of volleyball since his injury. Anytime he had accidentally switched to the volleyball channel, he would change to a different one right away. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to enter the gym after the day he had talked to his coach after the Spring Tournament. 

“Maybe,” he said halfheartedly, thankful that Kuroo didn’t press him further. He would rather relive every one of his losses against Ushijima than ever voluntarily watch a volleyball match again.


	7. The Grand King

Being undecided on a major meant that Oikawa was going to be taking a wide range of general freshmen classes for his first year. While his advisor had assured him that he would graduate on time as long as he declared a major by the end of his second year, seeing the wide range of classes on his schedule left him with a nagging feeling of doubt. Especially compared to Kuroo, who was on a strict pre-med track and had tested out of many of the freshmen requirements, he couldn’t help but feel like he lacked direction. 

It also meant that he and Kuroo wouldn’t be sharing any classes. Oikawa glanced down at his schedule for his first day of school and sighed. Introductory Rhetoric sounded incredibly boring, but it was a requirement that he would have to take at some point in the year. 

The Nerima College campus was large, and knowing that he didn’t know his way around yet, Oikawa had left his apartment early for his first class. Kuroo had already left earlier in the day, as he had scheduled his classes early in the morning so he could make it to his volleyball practices every afternoon. 

The lecture hall was mostly empty when Oikawa slid into an empty seat near the back. The room was smaller than he had expected, and quickly began to fill up. 

“Oikawa-san?” 

A vaguely familiar voice caused Oikawa to look up. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the guy standing next to him. First he had a roommate who was on the volleyball team, and now _he_ was in Tokyo too? He’d left the prefecture to get away from his volleyball past in Miyagi, so why was someone who had watched his career end in one wrong fall at his college? 

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the former captain of Karasuno High School’s volleyball team. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. _What was Karasuno’s captain’s name again? Did it start with an S?_

“Can I sit here?” former-Karasuno-captain asked, motioning to the seat next to Oikawa. Begrudgingly, Oikawa nodded, still wracking his brain for the guy’s name. 

“I’m surprised you remember who I am,” former-Karasuno-captain said, taking the seat. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my name in all the times we’ve played each other.” 

“I don’t know it,” Oikawa admitted. “I”m not good at remembering the names of all the people I’ve played against.” 

He had to admit that he felt a little guilty. He’d shaken hands with the guy who was sitting next to him multiple times during all of their high school matches, and he obviously remembered who Oikawa was. He remembered the opponents that he had played against that he had considered a serious threat in high school: Ushijima, as well as Tendou, from Shiratorizawa, the overly boisterous but skilled captain of Johzenji High School, Terushima, and the tall, wall-like players for Date Tech. On the other hand, he had never really viewed Karasuno as a threat until the past year, when Kageyama and that short middle blocker had joined their team, and even then, their captain had never stood out to him. Oikawa had noticed that he was a competent receiver, but he never seemed to particularly stick out compared to the crazy plays that Kageyama and Hinata did or the insane saves that he’d seen their libero pull off. 

“I understand. I’m sure you’ve played a lot of matches. My name is Sawamura,” he said. Oikawa raised an eyebrow at his sincere tone. Most people would’ve been offended if he openly admitted that they hadn’t been memorable enough for him to remember their name. “Sawamura Daichi. I left Miyagi to study business in Tokyo and I have a friend here who recommended Nerima.” 

“So you didn’t come here to play volleyball, then?” Oikawa asked. As much as he hated talking about the sport now, he couldn’t quash his curiosity. 

Sawamura chuckled. “I wish. I’m planning on playing intramurals if I have time, but I’m honestly nowhere good enough to play at the college level competitively. Our success last year came from the rest of the team. I’m surprised to see you here, though. I think we were all expecting to see you play professionally right after graduation. Did you come here because you got recruited to play for Nerima?” 

Oikawa bit his lip. _So Karasuno didn’t know._ They must have assumed that his injury hadn’t been as bad as it had looked on the court that day, and that he’d gone back to playing shortly after. 

“That last match we played against you at the Spring Tournament,” Oikawa said. His mouth was dry. Would he always feel the bitter taste of anger and pain whenever he explained what had happened to him? “I fractured my right knee when I dove for that last ball. The doctors told me that if I kept playing, I could lose my ability to walk completely, so I’m not playing at all anymore.” 

Sawamura’s expression didn’t change as he stared at Oikawa for a long moment. Finally, he released a breath, looking away. “Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. II saw you getting carried out, but I thought that you’d be out for a few months, at most.” 

“Nope. I’m off the court for good,” Oikawa said, a wry smile appearing on his face. It was strange that he was being so honest with a person who had been a part of the team that had destroyed his dream of going to Nationals. He’d been feeling strangely honest since he had come to Tokyo with both Sawamura and Kuroo, with the exception of lying to Kuroo about his past involvement in sports. Perhaps Iwaizumi’s constant pestering that he should stop trying to put up a fake smile all the time had finally paid off. “I came out to Tokyo to try and get away from everything that happened.” 

Sawamura nodded in understanding. “I get it. Regardless of why you’re here, it’s nice to see a familiar face from Miyagi all the way out in Tokyo.” 

*** 

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you busy with college?” Kenma asked. 

“It’s only the first week of classes. There hasn’t been too much work assigned yet,” Kuroo said. The two of them were sitting in Kenma’s room, with Kuroo leaning against the wall as Kenma sat next to him, playing a new video game. Kuroo peered over his shoulder to see “Animal Crossing” at the top of the screen. It was once again a game that he had never heard of before. 

“Don’t you have volleyball practice?” Kenma asked, eyes not leaving the screen. 

“It’s still the beginning of the season so we have Sundays off, just like you guys,” Kuroo said. “Why are you asking so many questions about why I’m here? Did you think I’d just stop talking to you once I went off to college or something?” 

Kenma seemed to hesitate, his thumbs freezing over the buttons of his gaming device. “Honestly, yeah.” 

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. I told you before I graduated that I’d come by to visit as much as I could, didn’t I?” 

Kenma shrugged. “People change their minds.” 

“I basically slept over your house for half of high school so I wouldn’t have to take the train home for an hour,” Kuroo said. “I’m not going to just drop you as a friend that easily.” 

Kenma nodded, not saying anything, but Kuroo swore that he had a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“How’s the team going this year?” Kuroo asked. “It must be a rowdy year with Yamamoto as captain and Fukunaga as vice-captain.” 

“The current second-years have too much energy,” Kenma said with a sigh. “Lev won’t shut up now that Yaku isn’t around and Yamamoto doesn’t know how to control him. Fukunaga is too quiet to make Yamamoto shut up. They’re just all so loud, especially with Inuoka added in. I hope the new first-years we get will be less difficult to deal with.” 

Kuroo laughed. “Kenma, you could’ve just been vice-captain if you wanted more authority over your underclassmen. You know Fukunaga didn’t really want it.” 

“No way. Too much work,” Kenma said. “If I were vice-captain Lev would bother me more and I’d have to deal with Yamamoto all the time.” 

“You would think that you would’ve gotten used to all of them by now,” Kuroo said. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people with that much energy. It’s exhausting just being around them.” 

Kuroo made a face. “I know you’re introverted, but it’s not healthy for you to lock yourself in your room alone all the time. Especially since it’s your last year in high school. You’re going to turn into some kind of gamer-hermit.” 

“You have to go without any human contact to be a hermit. I still see everyone at school and practice,” Kenma pointed out. “Besides, you come to visit me on my days off anyways. I couldn’t become a hermit, even if I tried, with you around.” 

“That’s true,” Kuroo said with a grin. “That’s what you get when you have me as a childhood friend.” 

“I feel bad for whoever your roommate is now,” Kenma murmured. “I hope you’re not as clingy with him as you are with me. I can’t believe you managed to find someone so last minute.” 

“It’s not my fault that I didn’t know I was going to need a roommate until so late!” Kuroo said. “I thought that my parents wanted me to commute from home to save money, even if it would take a huge chunk of my time every day.” 

Kenma shrugged. “How is he, anyways? Your roommate.” 

“He seems nice, though he’s a pretty quiet guy,” Kuroo said. “He’s an undecided major, all the way from Miyagi.” 

“What’s with you and knowing people from Miyagi at your school?” Kenma asked. “Isn’t your friend, the old Karasuno captain, also at Nerima College?” 

“Yeah. I would’ve roomed with him, if I had known that I needed to find a place earlier. He had a roommate by the time I found out,” Kuroo said. “I hardly see Sawamura though, given that he’s not in any of my classes. I haven’t talked to him at all since he came out to Tokyo. And my schedule and Oikawa’s don’t really line up, so we don’t see each other that often either.” 

“Oikawa? Is that your roommate?” Kenma asked absentmindedly. 

“Yeah. Oikawa Tooru,” Kuroo said. As soon as the name had left his mouth, Kenma immediately looked up from his game with a rare level of intensity. “What?” 

“He’s from Miyagi, right?” Kenma said, and Kuroo nodded. “Do you have a picture of him?” 

“I have a few that he posted on the admitted students’ facebook page,” Kuroo said. He opened up his phone, scrolling through the newer posts until he found Oikawa’s. “Here.” 

Kenma peered over at the images, his game forgotten. The sight unnerved Kuroo, who knew too well how hard it was to pry Kenma away from his games for anything. 

“What is it, Kenma?” he asked. “Do you know him or something?” 

“No,” Kenma said, handing Kuroo back his phone. “But I recognize him from the volleyball magazines Shouyo showed me last year. He was featured as Miyagi’s best setter and one of the prefecture’s best servers. Shouyo wouldn’t shut up about how he wanted to beat him. He called him the “Grand King.”” 

“Huh? Are you sure you’re not just mistaking him for someone else?” Kuroo asked. “He doesn’t play for the Nerima team and didn’t do sports in high school. He said that he wasn’t the athletic type.” 

“I had that magazine shoved too many times in my face to not remember his name and what he looked like,” Kenma said with a sigh. “Here, I’ll text Shouyo.” 

Kenma took out his phone and used it to take a picture of the photo that Kuroo had shown him of Oikawa. He sent it to Hinata along with the message, “Is this the “Grand King” that you were telling me about last year?” 

Hinata’s reply was immediate, making Kenma’s phone vibrate almost as soon as he had sent the message. 

“Yeah, that’s him!” the message said. 

“See?” Kenma said, showing Kuroo the message. “Your roommate is a setter who even the Karasuno setter was afraid of.” 

Kuroo stared at the message. “He said that he didn’t play volleyball in high school,” he repeated. “And didn’t say anything even when I told him I was on the Nerima team.” 

“Then he lied to you,” Kenma said pointedly, picking up his game again. “Just tell him that you know Hinata and that he recognized him.” 

Kuroo sighed. While they had been living together for a week, he didn’t know much about Oikawa. He seemed like a good guy but kept to himself for the most part. Kuroo had just assumed that he was introverted, like Kenma, and that they just didn’t have much in common given their different courses of study and his apparent lack of interest in volleyball. But now Kenma and Hinata’s information made him see Oikawa in a new light. What was a former top player from Miyagi doing in college, pretending to have no ties to the sport? Why wasn’t he playing for Nerima? Why did he lie to Kuroo about not being athletic? 

“I think I’ll wait on that,” Kuroo said, causing Kenma to look up at him. “At least for now. If he lied about his involvement with volleyball, I’m sure that there was a reason for it. I’ll let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever is.”


	8. It's A Small World

“Hey, Trashykawa. I guess you didn’t die after a week of college.” 

“Why do you have so little faith in me?” Oikawa pouted. “I’m not _that_ bad at school!” 

“Says the guy who forgot to text us once he got to Tokyo and didn’t pick up his phone for an entire day,” Iwaizumi said. “Hanamaki actually thought you got kidnapped on your way there.” 

“I said I was sorry! I forgot to text you when I got there and was busy settling in. I texted you the next day!” 

“Tell that to Hanamaki, not me,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m guessing that your new roommate didn’t turn out to be a serial killer if you’re calling me now?” 

Oikawa nodded, before remembering that Iwaizumi couldn’t see him. “Yeah. He’s nice and from the area. He kind of reminds me of a nicer version of you since he plays volleyball and is smart enough to be pre-med.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well, he doesn’t call me “Trashykawa,” for one,” Oikawa said. 

“I only call you that because you started calling me by a stupid nickname too,” Iwaizumi shot back. “Anyways, did you end up telling him that you used to play volleyball?” 

“I decided not to,” Oikawa admitted. “Like you said, I wanted to leave all of that behind when I came here. His high school team was from Tokyo so it’s not like he would know that I used to play in Miyagi, anyways. I figured that it would be easier to get over it if I didn’t talk about it with him.” 

Iwaizumi hummed in response. “That makes sense.” 

“But he invited me to watch a practice match between our school and one of the other Tokyo colleges next week,” Oikawa said, sighing. “Apparently it’s a big event for students at Nerima to watch.” 

“Are you going?” 

“No way!” Oikawa said. “I can’t even think about volleyball without getting upset! How am I supposed to be able to watch my _roommate_ get to play when I can’t?” 

A short pause in the conversation when Iwaizumi remained silent reminded Oikawa of what he had originally called Iwaizumi to say. 

“Hey, do you remember last year’s captain from Karasuno?” 

“Yeah. Sawamura, right? The one that got a tooth knocked out in one of the Spring Tournament matches?” Iwaizumi said. “What about him?” 

“He’s in my Introductory Rhetoric class.” 

“Huh? What’s he doing at Nerima?” 

“He said he wanted to be in Tokyo because he’s studying business,” Oikawa said with a shrug. “I don’t know, maybe he was busy with volleyball in his last year too and didn’t do great on his exams.” 

“That makes sense. It must’ve been rough balancing the Nationals schedule with exams,” Iwaizumi agreed. “Did he ask you why you were there?” 

“Yeah. Apparently Karasuno was under the impression that my injury wasn’t too bad and that I went pro after graduating.” Oikawa paused. “I told him everything.” 

“Including why you chose to leave the prefecture?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m surprised you were so honest with him. I didn’t think you even knew his name back in high school since you didn’t see Karasuno as a threat until our third year,” Iwaizumi said. “It’s not like you to be so honest with people.” 

“He had to introduce himself to me again,” Oikawa said. “And yeah, I guess besides from not telling Kuroo about volleyball, I’ve become more honest since coming here. Maybe it’s because no one sees me as representing Seijou or a top-four team in Miyagi anymore, but I feel like I don’t have as much to prove or hide here.” 

Iwaizumi chuckled. “Look at you, Trashykawa. Growing up and becoming a decent guy only after I don’t have to pick up after you every day.” 

Oikawa smiled. He’d only been in Tokyo for a week, but even he could tell that he had changed from the person he’d been back at Seijou. Already, he was more honest about how he felt and cared less about how people perceived him, two things that Iwaizumi had always been trying to get him to do during high school. Who would’ve guessed that moving to Nerima was the answer? 

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.” 

*** 

“Sawa-chan!” 

Sawamura made a face before sliding into the seat next to Oikawa. 

“I never understood why you call everyone by a nickname,” he said. “You know, I’m perfectly fine with you calling me by my first name.” 

“But that’s no fun! Where’s the creativity?” Oikawa said. “Besides, “Sawamura” is too long to say all the time.” 

“It’s the same number of syllables as “Sawa-chan,”” Sawamura pointed out, his face souring when he said the nickname. 

After realizing that they were both in the same Introductory Rhetoric class, the two of them had become unlikely but fast friends over the last month. Oikawa quickly learned that his impression of Sawamura from the times he had seen him play volleyball had been right, and that he was very much the reliable, responsible, and mature captain that he had appeared to be. Oikawa often saw him texting the members of his high school team, especially their new captain, whenever one of them needed advice 

“Ennoshita is a reliable guy,” Sawamura had said to him. “But he lacks confidence and is too hard on himself. If he just believed in himself a little more, he really would be the perfect captain.” 

From that description, Oikawa guessed that “Ennoshita” was the quiet guy who had been on the bench for most of the games last year but had filled in for their captain for the match where Sawamura had been injured. Oikawa almost felt sorry for the guy. Sawamura’s must’ve left some large shoes to fill. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Sawamura said. “You know, our Nerima’s team is playing a practice match on Friday. I’m planning on going, but do you want to come?” 

“Thanks,” Oikawa said, looking down at the ground. Though he’d had to turn down Kuroo politely every time he invited him to watch a match over the last month, this was the first time Sawamura had invited him. “But I think I”ll pass.” 

“Sorry, it was insensitive of me to ask,” Sawamura said immediately. “I should’ve guessed that you need some space from the sport. My bad.” 

Oikawa shook his head. “You apologize too much, Sawa-chan. On most days, I feel like I’m over it and that I’ve accepted how my life is now after the injury. It’s only when I’m around something volleyball-related that I feel angry and upset all over again.” 

“Hey, it was a big change. I’m sure it’ll get better in time,” Sawamura said. 

Oikawa shrugged. “I hope so. I guess it doesn’t help that my roommate is on the Nerima Volleyball Team either.” 

“Really?” Sawamura looked surprised. “My friend that I met from high school volleyball is on the team too. The main reason I’m going to watch is actually to see Kuroo play.” 

Oikawa blinked. What were the chances? 

“Kuroo is my roommate.” 

“Seriously? I guess the world really is a small place,” Sawamura said. “He was captain of a Tokyo team that Karasuno had an old rivalry with, so we did a lot of training camps and practice matches against them.” 

Oikawa nodded, though Sawamura seemed to pick up on his unease at their revelation that they both knew Kuroo. 

“Does he know that you used to play volleyball?” Sawamura asked. 

“No. He asked if I did sports back in high school, but I told him that I wasn’t thathletic type,” Oikawa said. “I wasn’t really planning on anyone at Nerima knowing except you, since you already knew most of it.” 

“I’m not going to tell him that you used to play, or that you were planning to go pro,” Sawamura said after a pause. “He’s my friend, but so are you now, and I can understand why you don’t want to talk about it with people who don’t already know.” 

“Thanks, Sawamura,” Oikawa said. Sawamura nodded, understanding that Oikawa wasn’t just thanking him for not telling Kuroo. Though they had only become friends recently, Oikawa had come to realize that Sawamura was a really non-judgemental guy. From the beginning, when Oikawa had first told him about why he was at Nerima, Sawamura hadn’t pitied him or pried and instead accepted him for what he said. And now, even though Oikawa had just admitted to lying to one of Sawamura’s friends, he didn’t seem to judge him for doing so. 

“Well, if you ever change your mind about going to the volleyball matches, just let me know,” Sawamura said. “You’ll always have someone to watch them with.” 

*** 

Oikawa bit his lip before closing the window on his laptop. 

It was a month into his first year of college, and he once again found himself lying on his bed on a Friday evening, fists clenched in frustration. Kuroo had a habit of disappearing for the entire weekend, saying he was visiting a friend from high school or had a volleyball practice match, which left Oikawa in the apartment alone once a week. This had inadvertently resulted in Oikawa’s new Friday ritual: attempting to watch his old volleyball matches before his feelings of anger, frustration, and sadness would overtake him and he found himself having to stop watching. He always chose matches in which his team had won and he knew that he had played well, but that never helped him get past the ten-minute mark before he would shut his laptop. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. What was he doing? It was moments like these that made him wonder if coming to Nerima had accomplished anything at all. Sure, he had become more honest and had put a stop to putting on his fake, extremely extroverted personality, but had he really progressed in getting over his lost volleyball career? After a month of being in Tokyo, he was still hiding from the sport, avoiding any invitation from either Sawamura or Kuroo to watch Nerima’s practice matches. If he was still unable to watch more than ten minutes of a high school volleyball game, would he ever be able to get over it? 

Oikawa had always loved volleyball before his injury. Nothing came close to the adrenaline rush he got during the middle of a close match, the feeling of the ball against his hand when he served, or the thrill of victory alongside his friends and teammates. But most of all, volleyball had always been fun for him. From when he and Iwaizumi had started playing the sport in elementary school to their last tournament as high schoolers, volleyball had been there to lift his spirits when he was feeling down and gave him a family of teammates no matter where he went. 

But, staring up at his ceiling with his heartbeat hammering in his ears, Oikawa wondered if he would’ve been happier if he had never played the sport at all. 

*** 

“Congratulations on your win.” Kuroo turned at the familiar voice, a smirk on his face. He was outside of the gym, where the spectators of the match were gathered, talking to each other and waiting to congratulate the players who hadn’t come out yet. “Well, it looks like the country bumpkin crow survived his first month of college in the big city.” 

“Miyagi isn’t even that rural,” Sawamura complained, sighing. Kuroo had come up with the nickname for the members of the Karasuno volleyball team because two of their second-years, Nishinoya and Tanaka, had continuously mistaken a transmission tower for the Sky Tree. Unfortunately for them, Kuroo had taken that to mean that everyone from Karasuno was just incredibly unfamiliar with things found in the city, when in reality, Tanaka and Nishinoya were just idiots by most definitions of the word. It wasn’t like they didn’t have any transmission towers in Miyagi. 

“Anyways, what did you think of the game?” Kuroo asked. “It’s the first Nerima game you’ve been able to make it to, right?” 

“You were good,” Sawamura said, nodding. “I wish I would’ve been able to make it to the other practice matches. Nerima is pretty strong for a smaller school.” 

“Consistently top four in the prefecture for college volleyball,” Kuroo said proudly. “I still have a long way to go until I’m up to par with the upperclassmen, though.” 

“Cut yourself some slack for once,” Sawamura said. “You’re the only first-year starting member and you’re playing alongside guys who were also captains of National-qualifying teams back when they were in high school.” 

“Says the guy who was captain for a National-qualifying team himself, last year,” Kuroo said. “I don’t get why you chose not to play in college. Maybe you wouldn’t have been a starter at Nerima, but I’m pretty sure you would’ve made the team.” 

Sawarmura shook his head. “I had a lot of fun with volleyball in high school, but I knew that I wanted my last competitive memories on the court to be with that team. I might’ve been captain but I wasn’t good enough to get much play time in college, even if I had made the team. I’m busy enough as it is, anyways.” 

Kuroo nodded. “How do you have so little free time? We haven’t hung out since when you first came down from Miyagi!” 

“I promise I’ll text you so we can set up a time soon,” Sawamura promised. “And if I don’t follow through, I’ll help you practice blocking for an hour.” “I’ll hold you to that,” Kuroo said. Sawamura nodded in agreement before excusing himself, saying he had a meeting that started soon. 

“Didn’t that guy go to Karasuno?” a quiet voice said from behind him. 

Kuroo’s mouth dropped open when his eyes landed on the speaker. “Kenma? What are you doing here?” “

You come to visit me every weekend so it’s only fair that I watch at least some of your games in person,” Kenma said with a shrug. “You were the one who said that just because you’re in college now doesn’t mean we have to stop hanging out.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t really watch sports for fun,” Kuroo said. “You stayed for the entire match?” 

“Yeah. Yamamoto, Lev, and Inuoka said to tell you that they wanted to come but were busy,” Kenma said. “Besides, you hate gaming because you suck at it but you still watch me play.” 

“Hey, I don’t suck! I just like keeping my strategy as simple as possible.” 

“I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve beaten me in a game, and two of those times were when I had a fever,” Kenma said. “I’m surprised they gave you so much play time in your first year, though.” 

“Just because I can’t beat you doesn’t make me bad,” Kuroo said. “Oh, and that guy you just saw earlier was Karasuno’s captain last year. Sawamura. He’s the friend I was telling you who goes here now.” 

“He’s not on the team?” 

“Nah,” Kuroo said. “He said he probably wouldn’t get that much play time anyways, and he’s pretty busy as it is.” 

Kenma hummed in response. “Oh, I was supposed to tell you. Shouyo called me the other day asking me why I had asked him about your roommate.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“The same thing that you told me. Shoyo seemed surprised that Oikawa was at Nerima, and especially that he wasn’t on the college team,” Kenma said. “He said that Oikawa had offers to play professionally abroad after high school, so everyone at Karasuno had assumed that he had gone pro instead of going to college.” 

“Offers to play professionally, huh?” Kuroo said. While he knew that his roommate had apparently been good enough to get featured in a volleyball magazine, having professional offers was another deal entirely. Why was a guy that good not playing on the Nerima team? It wasn’t like their team wasn’t good enough for him, given that they were consistently in the top four teams in Tokyo. What was a guy who had offers to play professionally even doing at Nerima with an undecided major? And, most confusingly of all, why had Oikawa told him that he hadn’t been involved in sports in high school? 

“It looks like your roommate has a lot of secrets,” Kenma said. “Are you still planning on not saying anything to him?” 

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Kuroo replied. While he believed what he said, he also couldn’t help but wonder what those reasons were. People who were good enough to have professional offers didn’t just get there with pure talent. Oikawa had to have put in countless hours of work to have gotten that good. But Kuroo knew better than anyone that once you fell in love with volleyball, it was almost impossible to let it go. He’d decided to continue playing in college, after all, despite his rigorous pre-med schedule. So how could Oikawa, who must’ve loved the sport as much as he did, just leave it all behind? 

Had Oikawa really managed to choose to abandon his sport? Or was Kuroo’s roommate hiding something deeper?


	9. Failures

Kuroo hadn’t been kidding when he had said that volleyball was a big deal at Nerima College. 

Oikawa hadn’t gone to any of the practice matches that Kuroo and Sawamura had invited him to, but it was clear that a majority of the student body did. He would go to class on days there was a match only to be surrounded by people decked out in school colors, excitedly whispering about which players they were supporting. It seemed like the Nerima student body supported their volleyball team even more than the Seijou students had, which was saying a lot. 

Oikawa felt like volleyball was being rubbed into his face, suffocating him on all sides. Perhaps he should’ve done more research into what Nerima’s social life centered around, but he felt like he couldn’t escape the sport no matter where he went on campus. Sawamura knew better than to bring up volleyball around him and his conversations with Kuroo were usually about classes, not sports, yet the schoolwide excitement around volleyball was enough for him to know if a match was taking place that week. He could only imagine how much worse it would get once the competitive season kicked into gear. 

“They’re all volleyball-crazy, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, once he was finished explaining the situation to his friend. After a month of enduring the “volleyball fever,” he needed someone to vent to. “You know those crazy fangirls from Shiratorizawa that we always saw when we played against them? The students here are just like that, but worse!” 

“So you’re telling me that you went all the way to Tokyo to get away from volleyball, but you ended up at a school that’s basically made up of volleyball idiots?” Iwaizumi said, laughing. “You sure have awful luck, Trashykawa!” 

“That’s mean, Iwa-chan!” 

“It’s the truth,” Iwaizumi said. “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe that running away from volleyball isn’t the solution and that it’s time for you to figure out how to face the sport while not being able to play it.” 

“Since when did you start believing in signs from the universe?” Oikawa asked. 

“Just now,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m not saying you have to love the sport as much as you did when you were able to play, but it’s been months since your injury now. You still can’t go near anything volleyball-related without feeling really upset, right? You’re still lying to your roommate. Do you really think that’s healthy?” 

Oikawa hesitated before replying. “No. But what am I supposed to do?” 

“Learn how to face it all,” Iwaizumi said. “Be able to watch a volleyball match without feeling like you’re going to cry. Tell your roommate the whole story.” 

“As if it’s that easy,” Oikawa scoffed. 

“I know it isn’t. But deciding you want to move forward is the first step, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi said. “Look, I have something that I think might help you, but I’ll only send it if you want to stop running away.” 

“Of course I want to! If there’s any way I can get myself to stop feeling like I do whenever I see anything related to volleyball, I’ll do whatever I need to do!” 

“Then open up your email,” Iwaizumi said. 

Oikawa pulled his laptop out of his bag and opened it, clicking on a message that had just arrived from Iwaizumi. It was empty, except for a single video file titled, “Oikawa: My Fails.” 

“What is this supposed to be?” 

“You know that third-year backup setter from Karasuno?” Iwaizumi said. “The guy you called “Mr. Refreshing?” Well, it turns out that he’s at my school and in a bunch of my classes. He told me that to prepare for the National Tournament, their coach gave them all “I’m Awesome” videos that were a compilation of their best plays to raise their confidence.” 

“I’m not following you,” Oikawa said. “What does that have to do with me?” 

“Well, Karasuno watched “I’m Awesome” videos to boost their confidence. You, on the other hand, always had a little too much of an ego when it came to volleyball,” Iwaizumi said, Oikawa bristling at his words. “And you’ve always had an inferiority complex when it comes to your ability to do anything else. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t losing out on a volleyball career only part of what upsets you so much? Doesn’t a part of it come from having to let go of the image you had of yourself as “a setter” that was hardly good at anyone else?” 

“Since when did you start psychoanalyzing me?” “Stop changing the subject, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi said. “Am I wrong?” 

Oikawa bit the inside of his cheek. “No. Probably not.” 

He’d grown up being told that he was good at volleyball. He’d known from an early age that he didn’t have the talent that some people were born with, but at the middle school and high school levels, his hard work had been enough to keep up with those natural-born geniuses. He had been far better than the average high school player, and he knew it. Sure, he was cocky at times when they played non-powerhouse teams, but Oikawa had always known that his confidence could be backed up by skill. 

“You’ve placed the image you have of yourself back when you could play on a pedestal,” Iwaizumi continued. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fact that you were really good, but you’re also good at other things. You passed the damn college exam with only a few months of prep! Watch the video, and let it deflate the memory of how good you were back when you could stand on the court. I think it’ll help you to move on if you can get that idealized image of how you used to be out of your head.” 

“Okay, I’ll watch it. Thanks, Iwa-chan.” 

Oikawa shook his head. For someone that came off as so hot-headed, Iwaizumi was strangely insightful about what Oikawa seemed to be grappling with. Perhaps it was something that just came with having been friends for so long. He exhaled slowly, preparing to brace himself for the video he was about to watch. 

It was even worse than he had expected. 

Oikawa cringed as he watched himself miss serve after serve and mess up toss after toss. It started off with misplays from middle school, which Oikawa could deal with, but seeing himself miss so many serves in high school made him ball up his fists. Logically, he knew that even the best players had to miss some of their serves, but being forced to watch all of his mistakes was a completely different story. The memories he had of himself on the court were all triumphant: the way he felt when he would toss the ball to Iwaizumi, who would blast it through a wall of blockers, or the thrill of racking up points with a series of service aces. Back in Miyagi, people often told him that he was indisputably the best setter in the prefecture, and he had believed them. He had worked hard to hone his skills, and he had been proud that it had paid off. The memories he had as a setter and captain were thrilling and triumphant, not… _this_. 

He was breathing hard by the time he reached the end of the video.Quickly closing his laptop, he glanced to his side when his phone buzzed with a text from Iwaizumi. 

_”I’m assuming you’ve finished the video by now. I hope it managed to deflate your volleyball-ego a little.”_

“A little” was an understatement, Oikawa thought. Seeing himself make so many mistakes was incredibly frustrating, like turning in an exam only to realize you’d made a slew of careless errors. But, Oikawa realized, he’d managed to get through a twenty-minute video of watching volleyball, and of himself playing no less, without feeling the onslaught of pent-up emotions overtaking him for the first time since his injury. Perhaps Iwaizumi had been right. Maybe part of why he hadn’t been able to let go was because he had idealized his experiences with the sport, only remembering his best moments. Shoved to the side had been all the pain, struggles, and frustrations that had also come with it that he had remembered through the video. 

_Buzz._ Oikawa’s phone called for him again, vibrating against his desk. Oikawa opened it, seeing another text from Iwaizumi. 

_”It’s only supposed to deflate your volleyball-ego though. You’re good at other things too, but you won’t be able to realize it if you can’t let go of what happened.”_

Oikawa smiled. He wasn’t sure if he believed that he was particularly good at anything else yet, but Iwaizumi had a point. Hiding away from the sport that had once meant so much to him wasn’t healthy. Perhaps he’d needed to get away from Miyagi, where everyone in the volleyball world had known who he was, but refusing to face the reality that he would never play on the court again wasn’t the answer. He tapped his phone screen a few times, sending a new text to Sawamura. 

_”Does your offer to see the next practice match together still stand?”_

*** 

“Oikawa, are you okay? You look like you’re going to throw up,” Sawamura said, as they made their way to the Nerima gym. 

“I’m fine,” Oikawa muttered, hoping he didn’t look as anxious as he felt. _It’s just a volleyball match,_ he told himself. _You’re not even playing! There’s absolutely no reason for you to be nervous._

“Come on, let’s go sit up there,” Sawamura said, guiding him as they entered the crowded gym and made their way up the bleachers. 

The seats were packed with students cheering, many wearing Nerima College gear. Oikawa didn’t think that he’d ever seen so many spectators for just a practice match. Glancing down at the court, where the players had greeted each other and had taken the positions on the court, Oikawa spotted Kuroo. 

“He’s a starter in his first year?” 

“Yeah. Pretty impressive, right?” Sawamura said. “I don’t think Kuroo stood out that much as an individual player back in high school even when he went to Nationals because his team was so strong overall, but he’s a pretty amazing middle blocker. It’s thanks to his advice that one of our first-years were able to block Ushijima’s spikes, too.” 

Oikawa nodded, watching the match start. Nerima took an early lead, and Kuroo was active through the entire set, blocking numerous spikes and often at least landing a touch on the ball. It was only after the first set had finished, with Nerima taking it with an easy 25-9, that Oikawa realized that he’d been watching the game with rapt attention. There had been no feelings of regret, anger, or jealousy. He smiled. Maybe Iwaizumi had been right, and deflating his idealization of how he used to be able to play had been good for him. Perhaps his aversion to volleyball ever since his injury had all just been in his head. 

Oikawa found himself cheering alongside the rest of the crowd when the second set started and it was Kuroo’s turn to serve. He yelled in encouragement alongside Sawamura when it was Kuroo’s turn to serve and cheered even louder when Nerima managed to score a point. While he could no longer stand on the court, the rush of adrenaline from watching a match, and especially watching someone he knew play, almost mirrored the feeling that he got when he was the one serving. 

Although he could no longer play himself, maybe he didn’t need to completely cut volleyball out of his life after all. 

*** 

Oikawa felt like he was in a trance as he walked out of the gym with Sawamura. Nerima had won the match easily by taking two sets in a row, with Kuroo having played for almost the entire game. His body felt strangely weightless as the loud chatter of the departing crowd filled his ears. 

“So, what did you think?” Sawamura asked. 

“That wasn’t...as bad as I had thought it would be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sawamura said with a small smile on his face. “I used to think that I wouldn’t want to watch volleyball after quitting and that it would be painful to see my friend play after I gave it up, but watching Kuroo play for the first time in college made me realize that getting to see someone I care about compete is almost as exciting as being out there myself.” 

Oikawa nodded. Yeah, that had been exactly how it had felt like. 

His strangely happy mood hadn’t lifted when Kuroo returned to the apartment later that afternoon, setting his gym bag on the side. His usually wild hair laid flat for once, still wet from the shower he must’ve taken before coming home. 

“That was a good match,” Oikawa said, making Kuroo look up in surprise. “I guess the Nerima team really is good.” 

“You came?” Kuroo asked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but I didn’t think you came to any of them before since you didn’t bring it up.” 

“This was my first one,” Oikawa said. “I had fun and it was good to finally get to see you play. I’m not surprised that you’re already a starter given how many roofs you pulled off in the second set.” 

“Thanks. I’ve been working on it for a while now,” Kuroo said. “Though I’m surprised that someone who hasn’t played volleyball before knows what a “roof” is.” 

Oikawa’s eyes widened at his words but Kuroo’s expression was neutral. He told himself that he was overreacting and that Kuroo was simply stating a true observation instead of indirectly questioning whether he was lying about his volleyball past. Kuroo would have no way of knowing that he used to play, after all. 

“The high school I was at in Miyagi had a pretty strong volleyball team,” Oikawa said quickly. “I guess you end up getting used to that type of jargon.” 

Kuroo nodded, though a look passed over his face for a split-second that made Oikawa think that he hadn’t completely bought his explanation. Or was he just overthinking it? 

“I’m impressed that you’re able to keep up with volleyball and your pre-med work,” he said, looking for any other topic to switch the conversation to. “How’d a guy who played volleyball well enough to go to Nationals end up in pre-med, anyways? Did you manage to stay in a college prep track while doing your sport?” 

“Yeah,” Kuroo said. “I mean, I know it sounds impressive to be captain of a Nationals-qualifying team, but I honestly didn’t do too much. I was lucky enough to have a strong team the year I was captain, so I could keep up with the college prep work. And I actually decided to go into pre-med because of volleyball. Being a part of such a physical sport got me interested in how our bodies can do some seemingly superhuman things, and I met some of my closest friends through volleyball. I guess I want to help other people be healthy enough to do sports, if they want to, so they can have the sort of experiences that I had. 

Kuroo’s words reminded Oikawa of Iwaizumi, when he had been talking about why he was going into sports science. Both of them were so sure that they wanted to help others and had been shaped by the role that volleyball had played in their lives. And, like with Iwaizumi, Oikawa couldn’t help but feel lost and incompetent in comparison. 

He had expected to be jealous of Kuroo from the beginning. He had accomplished Oikawa’s unfulfilled lifelong goal of going to Nationals. He was on the college team, playing the sport that he could no longer play. But Oikawa hadn’t expected to feel jealous of the fact that his roommate, in addition to Iwaizumi and Sawamura and everyone else his age, all seemed to know where their lives were headed. 

They were all the same age. They had all played volleyball in high school. So why did Oikawa feel like he was the only one stuck, the only one without a plan for the future?


	10. The Truth

“So how do you know my roommate?” 

Sawamura choked on his coffee, coughing slightly to get his breathing back to normal. Seeing this, Kuroo quickly handed him a napkin. 

“Sorry,” Kuroo said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw the two of you together at the last practice match.” 

“Oh,” Sawamura said. “We sat next to each other on the first day of Introductory Rhetoric. I’ve been inviting him to watch the practice matches with me but yesterday’s game was the first one he came to.” 

“I see.” Kuroo took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. The only reason why he’d started drinking coffee was because he needed the caffeine boost when he found himself studying late into the night, but he found the taste to be just as atrocious as the first time he’d tried it. Unfortunately for him, no tea seemed to be strong enough to keep him awake and dumping an obscene amount of sugar into his drink barely seemed to make a difference. It was something that would likely continue to bother him until the day he died, unless he one day found a way to make coffee tolerable. Kuroo sighed. It was just like how the secrets he knew Oikawa was keeping would bother him incessantly until he knew the truth. 

Kuroo had always thought of himself as a fairly non-intrusive person. His best friend was Kenma, after all, who was incredibly quiet and private about most aspects of his life. While he would press Kenma to speak if there was obviously something wrong, Kuroo usually respected his silence. He wanted to be the same way towards Oikawa and had told himself time and time again that what Oikawa chose to keep a secret was none of his business. However, the more Kenma told him what Hinata had said about his roommate, the more questions he had. Why was there any need to hide your involvement in high school sports, especially if you had been good? Why was Oikawa no longer playing? The questions were like a fly that wouldn’t leave him alone, constantly weighing on his mind until he decided to act on his curiosity. 

“So it had nothing to do with the fact that you used to play against each other back in Miyagi?” Kuroo finally decided to ask. 

If Sawamura had been drinking anything then, he certainly would’ve choked again. One look at his friend confirmed to Kuroo that Sawamura and Oikawa had, indeed, known each other from before college. 

“How did you-” Sawamura coughed again. “He told you?” 

“No,” Kuroo admitted. “But Kenma recognized Oikawa’s name and picture from one of those volleyball magazines Hinata used to carry around. Hinata told him that Oikawa was the setter and captain for a powerhouse school that you guys were rivals with.” 

Sawamura nodded at the explanation. “We played each other a few times last year. We beat his team in the Miyagi semi-finals of the Spring Tournament in our last year. Though, the rivalry might’ve been one-sided, given that he didn’t even remember my name when we reunited in college.” 

“Kenma was saying that he was good enough to go professional, according to Hinata,” Kuroo said. “And that he even had some offers to play abroad for when he graduated.” 

Sawamura took a long sip of his drink, as if intentionally avoiding Kuroo’s gaze. “That’s what I heard, too.” 

“So what’s a guy like that doing at Nerima, not even playing for the college team? And why’d he lie to me that he didn’t play volleyball?” Kuroo felt his voice growing louder. It wasn’t like he was mad at Sawamura, or at anyone, but there were too many unanswered questions about his roommate for no apparent reason. “Last night, I told him that it was unusual that a non-player would know a bunch of the terms he was using to compliment my playing, and he just played it off as something he picked up in high school. Why would you need to lie about the fact that you used to play a sport?” 

Sawamura sighed. “Kuroo, you’re my friend, but so is he. It’s not my place to tell you all of that. You should ask Oikawa yourself.” 

“So you know why he’s gone so far to lie about all of this?” 

Sawamura nodded. “I mean, he couldn’t exactly lie to me given that I knew him from Miyagi. Though, I don’t blame him for the reason why he’s choosing not to talk about it, which is why I’ll let him decide if he wants to tell you or not.” 

“I’ll never understand Miyagi guys,” Kuroo muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll ask him myself.” 

*** 

Despite his words, Kuroo found himself doubting his decision to confront Oikawa about his secrets as he walked home from the coffee shop. Of course he didn’t like to know that his roommate was lying to him, but Sawamura had said that he had a good reason for it, right? Was he prying into a sensitive area of Oikawa’s life? 

_But don’t you want to know why he’s hiding it from you?_ a small voice whispered in his head. It was right. He did want to know. Groaning, he pulled out his phone and dialed the most recently used number. 

It rang twice before Kenma picked up. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Kuroo said. “I have something to ask you.” 

“I figured. Go ahead.” 

Kuroo took a deep breath. “Did you ever feel like I was overstepping or prying when I would press you to talk about things that you said you didn’t want to talk about at first?” 

There was a long pause before Kenma finally spoke. “No.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I mean, there were times that I thought you were annoying because you wouldn’t drop it,” Kenma said. “But at the end of the day, I felt better after talking about it with you. I don’t like hiding things from my friends, but I wouldn’t have talked about it with anyone if they didn’t push me, so I’m thankful that you did that for me.” 

Kuroo hummed in response before thanking Kenma and hanging up. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he picked up the page as he made his way back to his apartment. 

“Welcome back.” Oikawa was sitting in the main living area when he came home, a textbook in his hands. Kuroo took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

“Hey, Oikawa.” Oikawa set down his book to look at him when Kuroo paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase his question. “You played volleyball back in high school, didn’t you?” 

Oikawa’s expression remained flat, giving nothing away. “What makes you say that?” 

“One of my friends from high school is close to a kid on the Karasuno volleyball team,” Kuroo said. “He saw the pictures that you sent me in your first message and recognized you from the Miyagi volleyball magazines that the kid used to carry around. You played setter and were captain, right?” 

Oikawa looked at him for a long moment before finally closing his eyes. He shut his textbook and put it down next to him. 

“Yeah. I did.” 

“So is it true that you were good enough that you had professional offers for once you graduated?” Kuroo said. Seeing Oikawa’s eyes narrow, he added, “I know you’re friends with Sawamura, but he wasn’t the one who said anything. I actually asked him about all of this and he told me to ask you instead.” 

Another pause. “Yeah. I was planning to play abroad after high school.” 

“So what’s a guy like you doing at Nerima?” Kuroo asked. Once he started, the questions seemed to be impossible to stop. “At the very least, why the hell aren’t you on the team? Why did you lie to me that you didn’t play volleyball in high school?” 

Oikawa sighed. “I came to Tokyo to get away from volleyball.” 

That certainly wasn’t the answer Kuroo was expecting. “Huh?” 

“My school played against Karasuno in the semi-finals of the Spring Tournament,” Oikawa said. “It was our final chance to win the Prefectural Tournament and go to Nationals, just like I had always dreamed of. We were at a deuce in the final set, and I guess I must’ve panicked or something at the thought of losing against them. I dove for the last ball and landed on the knee that I’d already injured before. It turned out that I fractured it. The doctors told me that I couldn’t play volleyball again unless I wanted to risk losing my ability to walk entirely.” 

Kuroo’s eyes widened at his words, but most of all, his tone. Oikawa was telling him of a career-ending injury, yet he spoke of it like he was describing a minor inconvenience. Shouldn’t he sound more upset, given that he’d gone as far as to lie about it? 

“I was really upset at first,” Oikawa continued. “And I couldn’t even go into the gym and hear my team practicing without feeling overwhelmed. My coach suggested that I try to go to college to give me some time to figure out what I wanted to do now that volleyball was out of the question. But I knew that if I stayed in Miyagi, basically anyone who was familiar with the high school volleyball scene would recognize who I was and I wouldn’t be able to escape the questions of why I wasn’t playing anymore. I thought that if I came to Nerima, I could get a fresh start. No one would know me and I’d have a blank slate to completely reinvent myself, without volleyball.” 

“So you told me that you didn’t play to avoid having to think about the sport you’d tried to leave behind?” Kuroo said, causing Oikawa to nod. Sawamura had been right. Oikawa’s reasons for keeping it to himself were things that he couldn’t blame him for. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was such a sensitive reason. I shouldn’t have-” 

“No. It’s fine,” Oikawa said sincerely. “I think I’ve finally gotten to a point where I can avoid getting too emotional. It’s kind of nice, actually, to be able to talk about it.” 

“I can’t imagine not being able to ever play volleyball again,” Kuroo said. “And especially not if I had planned on pursuing it professionally.” 

“Yeah, at first it felt like I just couldn’t accept it and couldn’t let go of all the hopes and dreams I had for playing,” Oikawa said. “But I guess at this point, and after having watched your match, I’ve gotten over it. Now, it feels more like I’m able to move forward but I have no idea where I’m going. I guess I’m pretty jealous of how you and Sawamura are the same age as me but already know what you guys want to do. I still have no idea what I’m doing in college.” 

“I felt like that for a lot of high school, honestly,” Kuroo said. “It wasn’t until my third year that I felt like I knew what I wanted to do. I’d thought about pre-med but it always seemed like something that I wouldn’t be smart enough or good enough to do.” 

“So what changed your mind?” 

“Someone recommended that I start volunteering at a hospital, to get an idea of what the field is like,” Kuroo said. “But it turned out that instead of it just being an up-close view of the medical field, it was the kids that I worked with that made me commit to pre-med. A lot of them have conditions that keep them from being able to leave the hospital. I guess seeing them continue to fight despite all the things they were going through and refusing to give up made me realize that if they can keep going after their dreams, then I could too.” 

Oikawa nodded. Kuroo and Iwaizumi really were similar. Both were determined to go into a field to help people and both were able to find a path that they wanted to pursue that wasn’t volleyball. Would he be able to do the same? 

“Hey, if you want to, why don’t you come with me this weekend to volunteer at the hospital?” Kuroo said. “Even if you have no interest in the medical field, I think meeting the kids might be helpful for you. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up inspired and figuring out what it is you want, just like I did.” 

Oikawa contemplated his words. What did he have to lose? At worst, he’d remain just as confused and lost as he was now. It wasn’t like he had anything to do that weekend, either. 

“I’d like that.”


	11. Hospital Visit

“You nervous, Oikawa?” 

“No!” Oikawa said, gritting his teeth as he followed Kuroo out of the train. The hospital that Kuroo had invited him to volunteer at was a few stations away from where they were living, and the two of them had woken up early to get there on time. 

“Wow, you’re really as bad at lying as Sawamura said you were,” Kuroo said, smirking, Oikawa simply rolled his eyes as the two of them headed out of the train station. 

“You’ll just be hanging out and entertaining some of the kids since it’s your first day,” Kuroo said. “They don’t really get visitors outside of family, so they get pretty excited to meet new people. In a few weeks, they’ll probably let you start helping out with some basic work if you want to keep coming. Are you any good with kids?” 

“I had a nephew that I babysat a lot back in Miyagi,” Oikawa said. 

“Well, just try not to scare them away and you’ll be fine.” 

“Please. If you didn’t scare them away, there’s no way that I will,” Oikawa said. 

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Oikawa gave a pointed look at Kuroo’s messy hair, his tall frame, and mischievous smile and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t look _that_ scary!” 

“Whatever you say,” Oikawa said, making Kuroo laugh once more. 

Once they arrived at the hospital, Kuroo took him to the front desk to sign some paperwork, explaining who he was. Oikawa took a moment to glance around the waiting area. It was strange, being back at a hospital. For that first hell-like month after his injury, he’d been at one multiple times a week to ensure that his knee was healing properly, often with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, or Hanamaki waiting for the end of his appointment so he would have someone to walk home with. 

“You’ll just be hanging out with one of the kids they assigned you to today,” Kuroo said, leading him down the hall. “His name is Hashimoto, an eleven-year-old who has a rare muscular disease. He has a hard time walking for any length of time and doesn’t get to hang out with the other kids too much, since it tires him out. He’s a good kid, though. I think you’ll have fun.” 

As they rounded a corner, Oikawa saw a group of younger kids walking down the hallway towards them. Seeing Kuroo, their faces immediately seemed to light up. 

“Kuroo-san!” 

“Are you here to hang out with us today?” 

“Kuroo-san, we missed you!” 

“I missed you guys too,” Kuroo said, ruffling their hair as one of the boys tackled his legs into a hug. “I’m spending some time helping out with the nurses, but I’ll drop by to hang out when I’m done, okay?” 

The kids all groaned in protest, saying that they wanted to spend time with Kuroo now. After assuring them that he would come and visit them later, they seemed to relent, before finally noticing that Oikawa was standing there too. 

“Who’s your friend?” one of the kids asked Kuroo. 

“Oh, this is Oikawa,” Kuroo said. “He’s my roommate and he’s volunteering here for the first time today.” 

The kids exchanged excited looks. “Oikawa-san, are you going to spend time with us too?” 

“He’s going to see Hashimoto first,” Kuroo said. “But maybe, if you guys behave, he’ll come see you guys with me.” 

That seemed to be enough incentive for the kids to head back to their rooms. Once they were gone, Kuroo sighed, turning to him. 

“Sorry about that,” Kuroo said. “But they just get really excited when someone new comes. If you’re okay with it, I can swing by after I’m done helping out with the nurses and take you to hang out with them for a little before we go home.” 

Oikawa nodded. “That sounds fun.” 

“And here we are,” Kuroo said, as the two of them arrived in front of a room at the edge of the hall. He knocked twice. “Hey, it’s Kuroo. Can I come in?” 

“Yeah,” a soft boy’s voice responded. 

Sliding open the door, Kuroo led Oikawa into the small room. A young boy sat on the bed in the corner, a bright smile on his face as he looked at Kuroo. _His hair looks like Kuroo’s,_ Oikawa thought, though the boy had large glasses obscuring part of his face. He wondered if Kuroo’s perpetual behead had started back when he was the boy’s age. 

“Hey, how are you doing today?” 

“Good. Who’s that?” The boy, Hashimoto, pointed at Oikawa. 

“This is Oikawa, my friend from college,” Kuroo said. “He’s here to spend some time with you today.” 

“Hi, Hashimoto-kun,” Oikawa said hesitantly, bending over slightly to be closer to eye level with the boy. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You go to school with Kuroo-san?” 

“Yeah. We’re roommates, actually,” Oikawa said. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Kuroo said, moving to head out of the room. “I’ll be back in a bit to hang out too, Hashimoto-kun.” 

Oikawa felt a hint of anxiousness once Kuroo left the room. What was he supposed to talk about with a kid he had just met? Luckily, Hashimoto seemed like a pretty extroverted kid. 

“Are you studying to be a doctor too, Oikawa-san?” 

“No, I’m an undecided major,” Oikawa said. Seeing Hashimoto’s confused expression, he added, “That means that I’m in college, but I’m not sure what I want to study or choose as a future job yet.” 

“Oh. Well, when I grow up and go to college, I want to play sports like Kuroo-san!” 

“You like volleyball?” Oikawa asked, surprised, remembering what Kuroo had said about his muscular condition. 

Hashimoto nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Kuroo-san shows us videos of his team sometimes and it looks like so much fun! And he looks so cool when he hits the ball really fast! But I want to be just like his setter from his high school team!” 

“The setter?” Oikawa asked. That was a first. Takeru had always said that Oikawa’s position wasn’t as cool as the wing spikers or middle blockers, who were the ones often scoring points. “Not the ace, or a spiker?” 

Hashimoto shook his head. “Kuroo-san said that the setter on his team wasn’t tall or athletic, but he was a big reason why they were able to go to Nationals. I can’t do a lot of athletic stuff because of my condition so I want to be in a position where I can play even if I can’t run around and jump like everyone else!” 

“That setter sounds pretty cool,” Oikawa agreed, wondering if it was true. Remembering that Kuroo had said that his third-year team had been well-rounded and strong, could it be possible that they managed to make Nationals without a particularly talented setter? In all his years of playing, Oikawa had always thought that his lack of natural athletic prowess had been one of the things holding him back. Could it be possible that it wasn’t his physicality but his mindset that had been doing that instead? 

Oikawa listened as Hashimoto continued to gush about Nekoma High School, and how he was hoping to get to see them play later that year, since the setter would be graduating in the spring. He found that Hashimoto only needed to be asked a question or two before he would launch into an explanation about what he thought about a particular topic, whether it be volleyball, his favorite subject, or his friends at the hospital. 

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Kuroo knocked on the door, saying that he had finished assisting the nurse before taking a seat to join the conversation. Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the way Hashimoto’s eyes would light up when Kuroo talked about his sport, and wondered if Hashimoto thought that his dream was realistic or not. He didn’t know much about Hashimoto’s condition, but if you had trouble walking for long periods of time, could you really play volleyball competitively? Though, hearing him talk excitedly to Kuroo, Oikawa understood what Kuroo had meant when he said being around the kids was inspiring. Whether Hashimoto’s dream was realistic or not, he didn’t seem to be afraid to voice it. 

“Well, don’t miss us too much until next week,” Kuroo said, moving to get up from his chair. “I talked to my setter friend from high school and he said he’ll come to visit with us next time.” 

“Really?” Hashimoto said. Kuroo nodded. Once he and Oikawa said their goodbyes, promising that they would be back the next week, they exited the room. 

“He’s an optimistic kid, isn’t he?” Kuroo said once they were outside. 

Oikawa nodded. “He really looks up to you.” 

Kuroo laughed. “Wait until you see him meet Kenma, the setter from my high school. Hashimoto basically worships the guy, and Kenma is about as quiet and awkward with strangers as someone can get. It took so much begging to get him to agree to visit next week, and he’s definitely going to freak out when a little kid starts gushing over him.” 

The two of them walked down the hall and Oikawa followed Kuroo as he made his rounds meeting the other kids. Their faces would immediately light up when seeing Kuroo, who seemed to be able to talk to them about any topic whether it be the struggles of math homework or video games. 

“I actually don’t know anything about video games,” Kuroo admitted once they left the last kid’s room and Oikawa asked him about it. “I’m really bad at them, too. I don’t get how you’re supposed to time what you see on the screen to when you move your fingers! Everything I just said in that conversation comes from watching Kenma play all the time.” 

“You’re good with kids,” Oikawa observed. “They were so excited to see you.” 

Kuroo shrugged. “I mean, I’ve been coming here for a while and I’m pretty sure I’m the only college student that comes regularly. They’d be glad if you came back next week.” 

“Yeah, I want to come back next weekend too,” Oikawa said, earning a grin from Kuroo. “I had a lot of fun. And you were right. Being around the kids, especially Hashimoto, is really inspiring.”


	12. Still Cool

“I’ll get it!” Oikawa said when the doorbell rang. Kuroo was still getting dressed in preparation for their volunteering day at the hospital, having overslept from the late night he had pulled studying. Oikawa made his way to the door and opened it, blinking down at the figure in front of him. 

The boy standing at the door had dyed blond hair with black roots, vaguely reminding Oikawa of a pudding. Oikawa noted the red jacket the boy wore that said “Nekoma,” the name of Kuroo’s high school. 

“Kozume-san?” Oikawa asked. The boy nodded. “He’s still getting ready, but come inside. I’m Oikawa, Kuroo’s roommate.” 

Kozume didn’t say anything to him, though Oikawa noticed how his eyes flicked around the room, taking everything in. It was like having an incredibly alert cat at your home for the first time. 

“Hey, Kenma!” Kuroo called, stepping out of his room. “Sorry for the wait. Let’s go!” 

The three of them made their way to the train station in silence. Oikawa found himself often glancing at Kenma, wondering how such a quiet person had become friends with Kuroo and why someone like him would opt to dye his hair bright blonde. The boy seemed comfortable with the silence, though, looking straight ahead as they walked down the street. 

“Thanks for doing this, Kenma,” Kuroo said as they walked up the stairs to the station. “This kid is super excited to finally get to meet you. You’re practically his hero!” 

Kenma’s mouth scrunched up at his words, seeming to grimace at the thought. “Why? I’m not athletic or even that good at volleyball. Shouldn’t he be worshipping the Grand King of Miyagi instead?” 

“GrandKing?” Oikawa asked. 

“It’s what Shouyou called you when he showed me the magazines you were in,” Kenma said with a shrug. “He said something about you teaching the King on his team, or something like that.” 

“Oh, you’re friends with Karasuno’s shrimp,” Oikawa said, finally connecting the dots. Hinata must’ve been the reason why Kenma and Kuroo had known about his volleyball career in Miyagi. 

“Hashimoto looks up to you _because_ you’re not athletic,” Kuroo said. “He has a muscular condition that makes him feel fatigued easily and he’s not very tall, but his dream is to be able to play volleyball one day. When I showed him a video of one of our matches from last year and told him how you weren’t that tall or the athletic type but was the “brain” of our team, he seemed to take it to mean that he could be like that one day, too.” 

“I’m not good with kids,” Kenma said, his cheeks turning red at Kuroo’s praise. “Or people in general. I don’t know what you want me to do when we get there.” 

“Just hang out with the kid. Answer his questions. Honestly, Kenma, I think that you being there alone will make his day.” 

Kenma’s expression was skeptical, but he didn’t say anything back. The slightly uncomfortable expression didn’t leave his face even as they arrived at the hospital. When Kuroo went up to the front desk to check them in, Oikawa glanced towards Kenma, who looked even more uneasy than Oikawa had felt on his first week. 

“Come on, follow me,” Kuroo said when he was finished. The three of them walked down the familiar hallways to the children’s ward. This time, there were no children to ambush Kuroo in the hallway, and they found themselves outside of Hashimoto’s door relatively quickly. 

Kuroo knocked. “Hey, it’s Kuroo. Are you free right now?” 

“Yeah.” At Hashimoto’s voice, Kuroo grinned before sliding open the door. 

Hashimoto looked up from the book he was holding to greet Kuroo, but Oikawa saw that the second his eyes landed on Kenma, his entire face fell slack. The book fell out of his hands onto the ground, and Kuroo bent down to pick it up and return it to him. 

“You’re Kozume-san!” Hashimoto exclaimed excitedly. “The setter for Nekoma High School!” 

“Uh...Yeah. I guess.” Kenma took a small step back, eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape from the excited child in front of him. Perhaps Kuroo had picked up on this too, because he pushed Kenma forward by the shoulders towards the bed. 

“I told you he’d come to visit you,” Kuroo said proudly. “Kenma can only stay for a little bit, since he has volleyball practice later today, though.” 

“I can’t believe you’re here! Kozume-san, you’re my hero! Kuroo-san showed me all those videos of you guys playing at Nationals and you were able to play against all of those tall and scary-looking guys!” Oikawa questioned how Hashimoto was able to keep such a fast and steady stream of words coming out of his mouth. Didn’t the kid need to breathe? “When did you start playing volleyball? Is it true that you don’t think you’re that athletic? Does that mean that I’ll be able to be like you and play volleyball when I get older too?” 

Seeing Kenma’s petrified expression, Kuroo laughed, thumping him on the back. 

“Sorry, Hashimoto,” he said. “You’re going to have to slow down. Kenma’s a lot quieter than Oikawa and I are.” 

“One question at a time, please.” Kenma’s voice was barely audible. “Uh, I started playing volleyball in elementary school because Kuro got me into it. I’m the least athletic person on the team. And I think anyone can play volleyball, right? I mean, I hate getting tired and I have a friend who’s close to your height who plays.” 

Hashimoto’s grin widened even more at Kenma’s words. Kuroo stepped back to stand next to Oikawa as he once again began to bombard Kenma with questions. Though Kenma’s answers were short and often only a few words, Hashimoto’s excitement didn’t seem to fade. 

“Kenma is better at this than I thought,” Kuroo mused. “I was a little worried about bringing him since he’s so quiet and doesn’t sugarcoat anything, but I guess maybe it worked out. I think Hashimoto picked up on the fact that everything Kenma said about anyone being able to play volleyball is absolutely true.” 

Oikawa nodded. Kenma did give an impression of unfiltered honesty, similar to Iwaizumi. 

“So he’s telling the truth that he’s not athletic at all and doesn’t even like volleyball that much?” he asked, overhearing Kenma responding to one of Hashimoto’s questions. When Hashimoto asked why, Kenma shrugged, saying that sports weren’t really his thing to begin with but he would still do his best to help his team. 

“Yeah. He hated when I used to force him to practice with me when we were younger. I basically forced him to join the middle school team with me, too,” Kuroo said. “I don’t think volleyball is something he would’ve ever chosen to do on his own, but I think it’s grown on him. Or at the very least, being around the people who he’s playing alongside has.” 

Oikawa didn’t know how much time had passed since Hashimoto had started badgering Kenma with questions until Kuroo glanced up at the clock. 

“Okay Hashimoto,’ he said. “It’s time for Kenma to go to his volleyball practice.” 

“Do you have to go?” Hashimoto asked Kenma. “You can’t stay for just a little longer?” 

Kenma sighed but looked at the clock. “I should go to practice. I don’t want to deal with Yamamoto yelling at me if I’m late. Besides, if you have more setter questions you should ask him.“ 

Kenma nodded towards Oikawa, and Hashimoto’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Oikawa-san, you’re a setter too?” 

“Uh, I was. Back in high school.” 

“Really? That’s so cool! Why-” Hashimoto was cut off by Kuroo stepping forward. 

“Okay, before you start badgering Oikawa with questions let’s say thank you and bye to Kenma,” he said. 

Hashimoto redirected his attention back to Kenma. “Thank you, Kozume-san!” 

Kenma nodded in acknowledgement before silently leaving the room. As soon as he left, Hashimoto’s torrent of questions refocused on Oikawa. 

“Are you still a setter, Oikawa-san? Are you on the same team as Kuroo-san? Can I see you play?” 

“I don’t play anymore,” Oikawa said, noticing that the thought of lying about his involvement in volleyball hadn’t even crossed his mind. Maybe it was because Kenma’s words made it almost impossible to lie, or that Hashimoto’s enthusiasm made him want to respond with only honesty. Or, perhaps, he’d finally begun to heal from the emotional toll that his injury had taken from him. “In my last match of high school, I got injured and the doctors told me that I couldn’t play volleyball anymore.” 

“Oh.” Hashimoto’s expression fell, as he looked like he was searching for something to say. “Could I see a video of when you were playing, though, Oikawa-san? I want to know what you were like on the court!” 

Oikawa hesitated. Besides Iwaizumi’s self-esteem destruction video, he hadn’t watched himself play ever since that last match. But Hashimoto’s hopeful expression was too much to refuse. 

“Let me see if I can find one.” 

Oikawa pulled out his phone and did a quick search for Aoba Johsai matches from the previous year. A video that someone had posted of the previous year’s match against Karasuno at the Inter-High Tournament, which Aoba Johsai had won, caught his eye. Tapping on it, he handed his phone to Hashimoto. 

Oikawa could remember the match like it was yesterday. He’d gone into it presenting his usual confident attitude towards his team, though Iwaizumi had called him out on it right away. 

“You act like you can’t wait to crush Kageyama at the tournament,” Iwaizumi had said, as the two of them walked home. “But you’re actually terrified of the kid, aren’t you?” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Oikawa had scoffed. “Why would I be afraid of Tobio-chan and his team of flightless crows?” 

“Do you think I’m stupid, Trashykawa?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ve been scared of Kageyama and his ridiculous talent since his first year of middle school, and you’re even more terrified of him now. You can’t stand the thought of losing to him in an official match, right? Because you think that would mean that all your efforts into becoming volleyball were useless if some kid that was just born a genius can overtake you?” 

Oikawa had bit his lip, hesitating, before finally nodding. Iwaizumi had known him too well to fall for such an obvious lie. 

“We just have to win tomorrow,” he had said. “That’s all there is to it.” 

“There’s no guarantee that we’ll win, no matter how well we play.” Iwaizumi looked at him. “You sure can be stupid, you know. Even if we lose to Karasuno, that doesn’t make all the time and effort you put into volleyball useless. Even if Kageyama ends up becoming a better setter than you, that doesn’t mean that you’re not a great player yourself. There’s no one else who can toss to me better than you.” 

Iwaizumi’s words had stayed with him the next day, when he found himself on the court playing against the boy who perhaps scared him the most. Of course he found other people like Ushijima to be terrifying too, but at least Oikawa was used to losing against him. He knew that no one would be surprised if another match against Shiratorizawa ended with Aoba Johsai’s loss. However, he’d never officially lost to Kageyama before. They’d only overlapped for a year in middle school, where Oikawa had been the official setter of their team and Kageyama spent most of his time on the sidelines. Even in the one practice match they had played against each other, Oikawa had hardly participated due to his knee injury flaring up. But, seeing the difference in Karasuno as they stepped onto the court for the Inter-High tournament, Oikawa realized that this could be it. This match could be the place that he finally lost to Kageyama. 

The match had been close, even reaching a deuce, but Aoba Johsai had finally managed to pull off a win. The sweeping relief he had felt when the ball had finally fallen on Karasuno’s side had been on a level that he had never felt before. Despite what Iwaizumi had said to him, that victory had symbolized, for him, that all of his efforts had been enough. For one more match, his hard work was enough to hold off Kageyama’s terrifying genius that was getting closer and closer to overtaking him. 

“Wow, Oikawa-san! You’re so cool!” Hashimoto exclaimed, pulling him out of his thoughts. Oikawa leaned over his bed to glance at the screen. The video showed the aftermath of when the ball had seemed to fall right over the net, and he and Kageyama had fought to shove it onto the other’s side. He had managed to finally tip it over Kageyama’s fingers, knocking him to the ground. 

“I guess I was,” Oikawa admitted, knowing that if Iwaizumi had been here, he would’ve berated him for getting cocky again. “That was last year, though. I can’t do any of that stuff anymore now.” 

“No, Oikawa-san! You still are!” Hashimoto said. 

Oikawa shook his head. “I can’t play volleyball anymore-” 

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not cool anymore,” Hashimoto insisted, a determined expression on his face. “You came back to visit me again with Kuroo-san, even though Kuroo-san says that you’re both really busy with college! Most people who come to volunteer and hang out with the patients don’t come back a second time.” 

“Really?” Oikawa couldn’t believe it. Every kid’s face lit up when they saw Kuroo last week and they looked just as excited when Kuroo had introduced him as his friend. How could anyone experience that and not want to come back? 

“Yeah. I guess hanging out with sick kids isn’t what most adults want to do on their weekends,” Hashimoto said with a shrug. “But you came back to visit, Oikawa-san. That makes you even cooler than if you were still able to play volleyball!”


	13. The Practice Match

“Why me?” Oikawa asked. 

Sawamura was over at his and Kuroo’s place, and the three of them were seated around the table for a study session. Since the fact that they all knew each other had come to light, the three of them had begun to spend more time together as a group. They balanced each other out better this way, Oikawa thought, with Kuroo there to lighten the mood, Sawamura to make sure they stayed on task, and Oikawa to make sure that his two friends didn’t fry their brains from studying for hours on end. He had just managed to convince them to take a break after a morning of non-stop studying. 

It was during this break that Kuroo and Sawamura had started discussing the upcoming practice match between Karasuno and Nekoma. According to Sawamura, Karasuno was coming to Tokyo to play against Nekoma this coming weekend. Since the match was on a day that Kuroo wasn’t due to work at the hospital, both of them were planning to visit their former teammates. Oikawa hadn’t been surprised at any of that until Sawamura had asked him to come with them. 

“It’s not like I really know anyone on either team,” Oikawa continued. “Wouldn’t it be weird if I’m just...there?” 

“Kageyama actually asked if you’d be willing to come,” Sawamura said. “Because of Kenma and Hinata, he knows that we go to the same school. I don’t think he knows exactly why you’re here, though.” 

“What does Tobio-chan want with me?” It’s not like the two of them had ever been close. Oikawa had to admit that he’d been immature in middle school, when he had brushed Kageyama off every time he had asked him for advice. By high school, their rivalry had grown so that the only time they ever spoke was when they saw each other at matches. 

“Well, he doesn’t know why you’re at Nerima instead of playing professionally,” Sawamura said. “And I’m sure he’s wondering why. I know he’s not good at communicating, but Kageyama really looked up to you back in high school. He’d always talk about how you were able to draw out the best in each of your spikers, whereas he was only able to do that with Hinata in his first year. Honestly, I think he just wants to see the setter he’s admired for so long one last time and hear for himself why you’re not playing anymore.” 

Oikawa knew that he didn’t owe Kageyama anything. They hadn’t gone to the same high school, and Oikawa never intended for Kageyama to look up to him. After all, in Oikawa’s eyes, they had been rivals: two years apart but closely matched in terms of ability. Kageyama was someone he’d spent his high school career watching his back for, always wondering whether today was the day when Kageyama would overtake him. He had no reason to see Karasuno’s setter again. Yet, for some reason, he found himself seated between Kuroo and Sawamura on the train as the three of them headed to Nekoma High School. 

Kuroo guided them towards the gym, stopping once to make a joke about mistaking a transmission tower for the Tokyo Skytree that made Sawamura flush in embarrassment. Oikawa didn’t get it. _How could anyone confuse the Skytree for a transmission tower?_ Still contemplating the thought, he followed Kuroo to the gym, where he could hear the squeaking of sneakers against the court. 

The gym fell silent when the three of them opened the doors to head inside. Oikawa recognized Kenma on the Nekoma side, and a number of familiar faces from Karasuno. There was Hinata, the tall one with glasses, the loud, bald one, the libero who had managed to receive a surprising number of his serves, and, of course, Kageyama. 

Hinata was the one who broke the silence. “Captain! Kuroo-san! And...the Grand King?” 

“Hey, Hinata,” Sawamura said. “Oikawa was free today so we decided to bring him along today, if that’s okay with you guys.” 

“O-Of course!” Hinata exclaimed. This seemed to snap everyone else out of their surprise, as both the Nekoma and Karasuno teams gathered around their former captains. 

“Kuroo-san, why haven’t you come to visit us yet?” an extremely tall, gray-haired Nekoma player asked. 

“Yeah! Kenma says you hang out with him on the weekend!” 

“What? That’s not fair!” 

“Sorry about that. Pre-med isn’t easy, you know,” Kuroo said to his former team. “I’ll be sure to be watching when you guys have your official matches, though. And you should be thanking me for visiting Kenma and making sure that he doesn’t turn into an isolated gaming hermit.” 

“I’m not a hermit,” Oikawa heard Kenma mutter, though he was quickly drowned out by the rest of Nekoma’s chatter. 

“Captain! How’s college?” the bald guy asked Sawamura on the Karasuno side. 

“Tanaka, don’t call me that anymore. Ennoshita is captain now, right?” A boy that Oikawa didn’t remember from the previous year, though he must’ve been on the team if he was the new captain, nodded. “And college is going pretty well. I hope you guys aren’t giving Ennoshita too much trouble this year.” 

“We’re always well-behaved!” Hinata said, making the blonde guy with glasses roll his eyes. 

“You nearly couldn’t come to this match because you did so badly on the last exam,” he said, causing Hinata to mutter something under his breath. 

“He managed to pass, so no harm done,” Ennoshita cut in. “But Daichi-san, that’s Oikawa-san from Aoba Johsai, right? What’s he doing here in Tokyo with you?” 

“Hinata and Kageyama didn’t tell you?” Sawamura asked. “Oikawa and Kuroo are roommates, and we all go to the same college. And Oikawa is here because Kageyama wanted to talk to him, right?” 

Everyone on the Karasuno team turned to face Kageyama. 

“Huh? Kageyama, what do you want with the Great King?” Hinata asked. “You know we don’t have to play against him anymore, right?” 

“Of course I do, stupid!” Kageyama snapped. He looked at the ground before slowly making his way towards Oikawa. 

“I hate to be quoting Shrimpy,” Oikawa said once Sawamura had distracted the rest of the team, who were no longer staring at him and Kageyama. “But what _do_ you want with me?” 

“Oikawa-san,” Kageyama said, raising his head but refusing to look Oikawa in the eye. “Why aren’t you playing volleyball anymore?” 

“You’re asking me that? Really?” Oikawa sighed. “I think you figured it out on your own, right?” 

Kageyama hesitated. “That last match at the Spring Tournament...You injured your knee.” 

Oikawa nodded. “And now I can’t play volleyball anymore, so I’m at Nerima College. Why do you look so surprised? You should’ve been able to guess that was the case.” 

“I-I didn’t want to believe it.” 

“Huh?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Why did you care? If anything, shouldn’t you happy knowing that you’d never have to play against me again?” 

“I hate to admit it,” Kageyama said. “But I’ve looked up to you as a setter ever since middle school. You seemed to always be able to do what I couldn’t, whether it was serving better, setting better, or even just getting the rest of the team to like you. You were something of a role model to me and I’ve spent the last four years trying to catch up to you. So, the person I wanted to be like getting injured in a match was the last thing I wanted to see.” 

Oikawa bit the inside of his cheek. Was it true? Had Kageyama actually seen him as a superior setter, and even more so, as a role model? Given Kageyama’s straightforward nature, Oikawa knew that he wasn’t lying. 

“So you wanted me to come today so you could confirm if my injury is the reason why I’m not playing anymore?” Oikawa asked. 

“No. Well,that’s only part of the reason,” Kaegyama said. He took a deep breath. “Oikawa-san, I’ve become a better player and person from watching you and playing against you for all these years. I was probably really annoying, always asking you for advice, but as much as you would say no at first, you’d always cave and listen to my question at the end of the day. So...Thank you very much!” 

Oikawa stared at him, unable to move from surprise, as Kageyama bowed deeply to him. He had never seen himself as a mentor to Kageyama. In fact, he had been downright childish at times. He would hardly count the few occasions that Kageyama had literally begged him for input as “advice,” so why was Kageyama thanking him like this now? 

“Tobio.” Kageyama looked up with a surprised expression, as if wondering why Oikawa had called him by his first name instead of his usual mocking nickname, _Tobio-chan_. “I think you misunderstood. I was never your mentor or role model. From that first day you walked into the Kitagawa Daiichi gym to try out for the volleyball team and made me afraid of losing my starting spot to you, we were rivals.” 

“Rivals?” Kageyama repeated, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“The last time we played against each other, I told you that next time we stood with a net between us, I’d defeat you again,” Oikawa said and Kageyama nodded. _So he remembered_. “It looks like I’m not going to be able to follow through with that promise. There’s no next time for me, but you still have a countless number of matches ahead of you. Since I’m not able to beat you like I promised, you better not let anyone else beat you either.” 

“Oikawa-san…” Kageyama said, his voice barely above a whisper. Tightening his hands into fists, Kageyama’s usual determined expression appeared on his face. 

“Win them all, Tobio.” 

From the moment that Kageyama had promised to do so and ran back to his team, the rest of Oikawa’s time at the Nekoma High School gym felt like a blur. He was barely aware of the match happening in front of him, even with Sawamura and Kuroo yelling and cheering like their lives depended on it. He hardly registered that after a long and hard-fought third set, Karasuno had come out on top, causing Kuroo to sulk on the train back. 

“Lev still can’t receive well!” Kuroo muttered. “It’s because he always kept trying to run away from Yaku last year, and now there’s no one to reign him in. Yamamoto is too wild himself, and Kenma and Fukunaga are too quiet to control him.” 

Sawamura seemed to have already tuned out everything Kuroo was saying. Instead, he turned to Oikawa. “Are you feeling okay? You’ve been really quiet ever since Kageyama talked to you.” 

“Yeah. I’m just thinking.” 

Hearing Kageyama tell him that he’d looked up to him for all these years felt like his volleyball journey, from its beginning to its sudden end, had finally come to a close. He’d started off playing as a hobby with Iwaizumi, had grown to love it in middle school, and then learned to fear what would happen if someone better than him were to come around when he met Kageyama. He had fought tirelessly against the inevitable reality that one day, Kageyama would finally surpass him until he eventually did at the Spring Tournament and Oikawa’s volleyball career had simultaneously ended. Now, half a year after that match, Oikawa was finally at a point where he no longer felt overwhelmed at the mere thought of volleyball and could even enjoy watching a good match. The growing fear that he’d carried of Kageyama ever since he recognized his sheer potential back in middle school was finally gone, and had been replaced with a swell of pride at the knowledge that Kageyama had looked up to _him_. 

Perhaps Iwaizumi had been right that running away from volleyball had never been the answer. As much as he had tried to get away from his past by coming to Tokyo and lying to his roommate, he’d never seemed to be able to escape it completely. But maybe, Oikawa realized, he never needed to escape it to begin with. He could acknowledge that he had once been on a very different path and still progress on the new one he was on now. After all, he was capable of making friends and meeting people without his sport, like Kuroo and Sawamura. Like Iwaizumi had said, it wasn’t like volleyball was the only thing he was good at. Hashimoto had told him that the fact that he had come back to visit him made him even cooler than he had been playing volleyball. 

_Hashimoto._ Just thinking about the optimistic boy made Oikawa grin. He was someone who had every reason to give up and let his condition hold him back, but seemed absolutely determined to one day stand on the court and play volleyball. And, at the end of the day, that was the same reason Oikawa had stood on the court too. As much as he enjoyed the thrill of winning and hearing his team’s name being cheered from the stands, he ultimately had played volleyball because he loved the sport. Though he had never actually gotten a chance to play, Hashimoto gave him a feeling that the boy loved the sport just as much as he did, and the idea that he might never be able to experience the rush of battling it out on a court with five other teammates made Oikawa’s heart ache. He would give almost anything to be able to do something about that, he thought. If only he could help kids like Hashimoto simply experience doing the things that they loved. 

Iwaizumi’s words from back when Oikawa had first injured his knee echoed in his head. _”I want to go into sports science to help people.”_ Kuroo had said something similar about being pre-med. Wasn’t that what he wanted to do, too? Wasn’t the desire to help kids like Hashimoto that he was feeling proof that he was different from when he had first come to college, with no idea what he wanted to do, and that he knew what he wanted his path to be from now on? 

“Kuroo,” he said, making his sulking roommate look up. 

“Yeah?” 

“How do you transfer to the pre-med track at Nerima?”


	14. Goodbye, Volleyball

“Hey, Trashykawa. Are you ready for Saturday?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“No! Iwa-chan, why is there so much material to cover? How can anyone remember all of this stuff?” Oikawa groaned into the phone, his eyes scanning over the piles of notes, practice exams, and textbooks that were laid out in front of him. He and Kuroo’s living area had looked like a tornado had hit it for the last week, with papers strewn around all over the floor. 

“Well, if you were able to prepare for the college entrance exam in only a few months I’m sure you’re capable of passing this one,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa could hear the smirk in his voice. “I feel bad for your roommate having to tutor you, though. At least there were three of us to split up the burden of having to put up with you back in high school.” 

“Five minutes of break left,” Kuroo warned from where he was lying on the couch. Though it wasn’t even Kuroo taking the exam, Oikawa had noticed how the bags under his roommate’s eyes had grown darker in the last few weeks from all the nights he had stayed up helping Oikawa study. Oikawa bit his lip. He really owed Kuroo after this. 

“Tell Kuroo I sympathize with him,” Iwaizumi said. “After all the time you’ve said he’s put in to help you, you better not fail.” 

Oikawa nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Good. I’m glad you’ve finally found something that you wanted to pursue, even if it took you a full year,” Iwaizumi said. “I’m proud of you.” 

After that day Oikawa had asked Kuroo about transferring to the pre-med track, Kuroo had started preparing him for the transfer exam nonstop. Nerima College only allowed a certain number of students to transfer at the end of their first year through a competitive exam, citing that transferring any later than that would put them too far behind on the pre-med coursework. According to Kuroo, being admitted as a transfer was rumored to be even harder than being admitted as a first-year. 

“I thought the general college entrance exams weren’t too hard,” Kuroo had said. “And I did pretty well on them. I honestly thought that I’d failed the pre-med exam to get admitted into the program, though. If the transfer exam is even harder, it’s probably best if you started preparing now.” 

That was what had led to Oikawa studying with Kuroo every night after Kuroo’s volleyball practices. Sawamura would help him study for the classes he was in currently to free up more time to prepare for the exam, and even Iwaizumi would help to answer his questions when Kuroo wasn’t around. In return, Oikawa made sure that he was at every single one of Kuroo’s games and that no one, except for maybe Sawamura, cheered louder than him. 

With the endless nights of studying, Oikawa’s only respite from school had become his Saturdays spent volunteering at the hospital with Kuroo. By the end of the year, he’d been helping to entertain the younger kids for long enough that he was allowed to assist the nurses with basic tasks. Though his job was mostly helping to prop patients up while the nurses took their vitals or bringing equipment from different parts of the building to where they were needed, being able to watch the nurses and doctors at work up close and their patients slowly recover only solidified his desire to pursue that path too. 

Even with his new volunteer assignments, Oikawa still found time to visit the kids with Kuroo. After their shift, they would spend a few hours with the kids, agreeing to regale them with stories about college, Kuroo’s volleyball team, and even what Miyagi was like. He never failed to visit Hashimoto each weekend either, who would often ask him how exam prep was going. Oikawa had no idea why he had told an eleven-year-old that he was planning on transferring to pre-med, but Hashimoto had excitedly told him that he thought that Oikawa would end up being a good doctor. 

‘Both you and Kuroo-san give up your time to help kids at the hospital feel better,” Hashimoto had said. “And doctors are supposed to make their patients feel better, right? So you’re already doing that!” 

Oikawa didn’t exactly agree with his logic (the transfer exam really didn’t care about how “good” of a person he was compared to his knowledge of biology facts), but hearing the boy who’d inspired him to pursue this goal warmed his heart. Hashimoto had called him cool, but really, Oikawa thought that the title belonged to Hashimoto himself. If he managed to pass the exam, perhaps he would tell him that. 

“Time for another round of practice questions,” Kuroo said, pushing himself up to a seated position. Oikawa sighed before saying goodbye to Iwaizumi and hanging up. Kuroo had a knack for choosing questions that he had a hard time with, and as good as that was for preparing, it was brutal to do it for any length of time. “You know, Oikawa, if you just knew the answers to _all_ of the questions, I wouldn’t be able to choose the ones you got wrong over and over.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Oikawa muttered when the doorbell rang. Not hesitating to stall, he quickly got up to answer the door before Kuroo could order him to start studying again. 

It was Sawamura at the door, with two cups of coffee in his hands. “I thought you two might need it,” he said. “Kuroo tends to panic the week leading up to the exam, so I thought that he might be driving you a little too hard this week.” 

“Hey, I don’t panic!” Kuroo yelled from the main room. 

“Do you want me to show Oikawa how you’d text me or Bokuto the night before you had a big exam to freak out?” 

“You promised you wouldn’t tease me about that!” 

“Anyways,” Sawamura said, handing Oikawa the drinks. “I just came to hand these to you. Good luck, Oikawa!” 

The coffees were warm against Oikawa’s hands. _Good luck._ The transfer exams were only offered at the end of the year, and this would be his only chance. He _had_ to pass. If he didn’t, it would mean another who-knows-how-many-months of going through college aimlessly, not knowing what he wanted to do. His volleyball career had been stripped of him for reasons outside of his control, but whether he passed this exam was entirely up to him. Setting one cup of coffee in front of Kuroo, he sighed. 

“Throw me your hardest questions.” 

*** 

Oikawa thought he’d known what being nervous felt like. The day that he’d taken the college entrance exams, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands from shaking besides all of his friends’ reassurances. Taking the transfer exam was worse. He hadn’t been able to sleep the entire night, having been unable to shut his mind off. Kuroo had told him that he needed to sleep to be able to focus the next day, but Oikawa doubted that he’d slept for more than an hour straight that night. The bags under his eyes, even worse than Kuroo’s, showed it. Deciding that he would have to just do what he had to do to stay awake, he made himself a cup of coffee and drank it, hoping that it would be enough to keep his attention up for the duration of the exam. 

“Well, you look awful.” 

“Thanks.” Oikawa turned to see that Kuroo had woken up and was standing on the other side of the room. 

“Couldn’t sleep because you were busy thinking about the exam?” Kuroo asked before chuckling. “Don’t worry, I bet that there won’t be anyone taking the exam that slept well last night. The day before my exam last year, I actually threw up from how nervous I was.” 

“I feel like I’m going to,” Oikawa admitted. The churning in his stomach was even worse than how he had felt before the college entrance exams. _Maybe he shouldn’t have forced a cup of coffee down?_

“This probably isn’t going to make you feel better at all,” Kuroo said, thumping him on the shoulder. “But you’re going to do fine. You had me helping you, after all, and you’ve been studying nonstop since you decided that you wanted to transfer. You’ve done everything that you possibly could.” 

Oikawa nodded. He knew that everything Kuroo was saying was true, yet that didn’t do much to slow his racing heartbeat. “You’re right, that didn’t help at all.” 

“I don’t think anything I can say will help you at this point,” Kuroo said with a shrug. “But even if you somehow, even with all of my help, manage to fail, it’s not the end of the world. I’m going to keep taking you to help out at the hospital, and there are other courses of study that’ll let you help people one day. Just remember that how you do isn’t going to affect how Sawamura or I see you.” 

_It’s just like the college entrance exams all of again,_ he thought, only this time, it was Kuroo and Sawamura by his side instead of Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. 

As he walked to the testing site, heart hammering in his ears, his phone buzzed. Glancing down, he realized that he had been wrong. The text from Hanamaki said, “Iwaizumi said your transfer exam was today. Don’t fail!” Matsukawa had simply written, “Good luck.” 

Oikawa smiled when he saw Iwaizumi’s text. _”We all believe in you.”_ Just a year ago, it had been Oikawa’s job to say those words to his team before every match, reassuring them that he never doubted them. Despite all his time saying it, he’d never realized how truly comforting those words were. He didn’t only have Kuroo and Sawamura behind him now, he realized. It was Kuroo, Sawamura, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and Iwaizumi, all believing that he could do it. 

He couldn’t let them down. 

*** 

“I already took the exam, so why am I even more nervous now?” Oikawa complained. 

Kuroo laughed. “I mean, it’s not surprising. You _are_ finding out how you did, after all.” 

“I’m sure it was fine, Oikawa,” Sawamura said reassuringly. “You prepared well for it. Have a little faith!” 

The three of them were headed to Nerima College together, after Sawamura had met them at their apartment. It was a week after Oikawa had taken the pre-med transfer exam, and the day that the passing applicants would be revealed. No one knew why Nerima made all of the applicants come to school to search for their number on a wall instead of emailing them all their results, but Kuroo had said that it was just a school tradition. 

“Yeah, you sure are an overthinker, aren’t you?” Kuroo said. “There’s nothing you can do about it now, anyways, so just pray your number is on that wall and hope for the best!” 

A crowd was already gathered in front of the large wall that the applicant numbers would be posted on. A rolled-up poster, which likely contained the results, was attached to the top with a staff member holding it in place until it was time. Oikawa glanced at his phone. _Five more minutes._ Why couldn’t they just show them the results now? 

“You’re number seventy-eight, right?” Sawamura asked him. He nodded, too tense to speak. The crowd seemed to grow quieter as it grew closer and closer to the time that the poster would be unveiled. Everyone here wanted their number to be on that poster as much as he did, he thought. It would come down to how well he’d prepared compared to them and whether that had been reflected on his exam. 

The sudden rattle of paper pulled him out of his thoughts as he watched the poster being unfurled. The crowd seemed to surge forward, moving closer to read the results. _Nerima College Annual Pre-Medical Track Transfer Exam Acceptances_ , the title read. 

His eyes seemed incapable of reading the numbers out of order. He glanced down the list. _009, 014, 027._ The sounds of celebration surrounding him as the few people who had left silently indicated that they all found their numbers, or had realized it was missing, before he had. _035, 048, 049, 067…._

“Congratulations, Oikawa!” 

A hard slap against his back as Sawamura and Kuroo’s voices filled his ears weren’t enough to tear his eyes away from the poster. He needed to see for himself. _070, 074...078._

“I...passed?” he managed in disbelief. The triumphant looks on Sawamura and Kuroo’s faces confirmed what he knew. Somehow, he’d managed to do it. He couldn’t slow the smile from spreading across his face. _He’d done it. He’d made it onto the pre-medical track._

“I knew you could do it,” Kuroo exclaimed proudly. “I can’t wait until you tell the kids at the hospital that you passed, especially Hashimoto. He’s going to freak out!” 

Oikawa nodded. Yeah, he definitely needed to tell Hashimoto that he was even cooler than him for being the reason that he’d wanted to transfer to pre-med to begin with. 

“I guess all of that studying paid off,” Sawamura said. “You and Kuroo definitely have a lot of sleep to catch up on after this.” 

“Absolutely true,” Kuroo agreed, letting out a massive yawn. “I think I missed out on at least a month’s worth of sleep thanks to this guy. Not that I wouldn’t do it all over again.” 

“Thanks, you two,” Oikawa said, looking at his friends. “I really couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“There he is!” 

Oikawa’s jaw slackened at the voice behind him. Whipping his head around, he blinked once, and then twice. He had to be seeing things. The three figures that were standing there couldn’t be real. There was no way that they could be in Tokyo. 

“Makki, Mattsun...Iwa-chan?” 

Matsukawa grinned at him. “We told you that it wasn’t goodbye, right?” 

“What?” Oikawa still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Why are you here? How did you-” 

“We invited them to come,” Sawamura said from behind him. “Iwaizumi goes to college with one of my former teammates, so we got his number and told him to bring your friends from Miyagi so we could all celebrate together.” 

“What? But it takes hours to get here from Miyagi! What if I failed?” 

“That’s why we texted you that you better pass,” Hanamaki said. 

“We fully believed in your ability to make it,” Kuroo said. “And even on the off chance that you didn’t, then we thought your friends from Miyagi might be able to do a better job of comforting you than we could.” 

Oikawa turned back to his former teammates. It had been a year since the three of them had pulled him out of the hopelessness he had felt after his injury and helped him find a new direction in life. Though they were no longer teammates and didn’t even live in the same prefecture anymore, his friends were supporting him all the same. 

“All of you...Thank you. For everything.” 

“You’re never going to stop getting so sentimental all the time, are you?” Hanamaki complained, though he was grinning. 

“I thought we agreed that “thank you” was unnecessary,” Matsukawa agreed. 

Oikawa’s eyes landed on Iwaizumi, who had yet to speak. Out of all of his friends, Iwaizumi had been there for him the longest. He’d dragged him up when he felt like he had no purpose, had forced him to stop running away from volleyball, and always seemed to know what Oikawa needed to hear the most. 

“Congratulations, Trashykawa.” 

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa started, though Iwaizumi quickly cut him off with a disgusted look on his face. 

“Don’t start thanking me now. I didn’t come to Tokyo for you. I always wanted to visit the prefecture, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa happened to be coming to see you at the same time so I dropped by too. That’s it.” 

“I’m sure it is.” 

It had taken over a year, but just like Iwaizumi had said he had found his path without volleyball. He didn’t think he could ever feel as happy and alive as he did on the court alongside his teammates, but now, surrounded by his friends with a new path opened to him, Oikawa knew that he’d been wrong. The life he was living was nothing like he’d thought it would be back when he’d been in high school, but it was every bit as fulfilling as he’d imagined a volleyball career being. Though he’d thought that he’d never truly get over his inability to play volleyball anymore,Oikawa realized that he didn’t need it to be happy. Standing there, surrounded by his friends, he knew that he could finally truly bid farewell to the sport that he’d once thought would stay in his life forever. 

_Goodbye, volleyball._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks...We've finally arrived at the end! Thank you to everyone who has supported and read this fic :) I'm working on a SakuAtsu one now that I hope to get out soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi reader, thanks for taking the time to check out this story! I just wanted to let you know that I love hearing from all of you, whether it's what you think will happen in the next chapter or your thoughts on what has happened so far. You can leave comments even without an account or can find me @ArinFive on tumblr! Happy reading everyone :)


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